


The Man Who Can't Be Moved

by SimplyEllie



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Action, Canon Divergence, Dummy should not have rocket attachments, Emotional Roller Coaster, Epic Bromance, Eventual Stony, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Glazed Donuts, Humor, Hydra, M/M, POV: Steve Rogers, POV: Tony Stark, Plot Twist, SHIELD Ambiguity, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Steve Feels, Suggestive Themes, Teambuilding, Teamwork, Tony Feels, Who gave Clint Explosives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-03 13:13:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 58,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplyEllie/pseuds/SimplyEllie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's only so much a leader can take before he finally breaks. But it takes more than a strong leader for a team to be great, individuals who are willing to give a little without expecting anything in return. The Battle of Manhattan proved that the Avengers can properly assemble, but what of on a personal level? And can some problems truly be fixed or do we live in a world where being "super" isn't enough?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hiccup in the Routine

There it was again. It was a hiccup in the routine that happened around the same time every day. There was a neat little stack of files that always made him stop on his way out. Director Fury had let Steve hold onto them, and when Steve asked if that was against regulation he was told not to worry about it. Out of kindness or pity Steve didn't know, but he was thankful. Now they gathered dust beneath a desk lamp that hadn’t been turned on in weeks. It’s not like the information changed, and Steve had it all memorized from his initial glimpse.

Even the top file was the same, but that was the problem wasn’t it? Miss Margaret Carter was still alive, the door to the past not fully closed. He didn’t know whether making the call would shut the door or blast it wide open.

Steve woke up at the crack of dawn since he only needed a few hours of sleep, but he rarely got up right away. Due to his military training, he forced himself out of bed.  Go out for a morning jog, come back and shower, get ready for the new day. There wasn't much of anything to do in his apartment so he headed back out into the city that was familiar and foreign at the same time.

But he always paused when passing his desk to stare at the files. Maybe it wasn’t a hiccup after all since it found its way into his routine.

Then he'd leave and grab a bite to eat at that nice little cafe that had been under construction since the Battle of Manhattan; the same with everywhere else. The city was filled with caution tape blocking off torn up concrete, sides of buildings remaining under construction, unused rubble piled up by alleyways. It created a lot of jobs but some buildings took priority over others, corporate offices over restaurants. He'd ask if there was anything he could do to help out and Beth, the waitress, would say with a bright smile that she appreciated the offer. Sometimes that meant yes. Other times, they were doing alright.

 After breakfast, whether or not he was needed there he would wander the disheveled streets, asking the smaller areas if there was any work that could be done. He’d help people clear out debris, fix the things that were broken, maybe run an errand or two, and he was thankful for the hours of work because for just a moment he didn't have to think. His hands had something to do, something solid to hold onto.  When the job was done he’d head out with a smile and a wave and without accepting any payment, because having his thoughts preoccupied was payment enough. He repeated the process until late at night.

He'd grab some more food, and sometimes he'd overhear things about the Avengers, unintentionally of course since his hearing was better than the average person. People speculated where they could be, except for Stark of course, what they were up to, and what exactly they did when they weren't defending the Earth. _Do you think the agents ever sleep? Could you imagine Thor buying groceries? Or the Hulk, could you imagine him strolling through the park?_

_What about Captain America? What do you think the guy does in his downtime?_

_Really, it isn't anything special_ , he wanted to say but he always remained silent.

The funny thing was that the Avengers felt as distant as everything else in his life since the Initiative. It had been about six, seven months ago? He lost count after a while since the days blurred together whenever he tried to think back.

In the gym he spent the final hours of the day, now night, going a few rounds with the punching bag and thinking about the people who were still alive but he hasn't seen since the invasion. The agents he figured stayed at S.H.I.E.L.D., and Director Fury checks in with him once a week. Dr. Banner disappeared, though Steve figured that was for the best. Thor was in Asgard, another dimension or galaxy from what Steve understood.

And Stark was right around the corner. It wasn't hard to miss the tower, especially since it was the only building fully fixed. If Steve really wanted to he could stop by and say hi… It's just, well, what if Steve decided to walk to Stark's Tower and ring the doorbell - did Tony even have a doorbell? But what would they say to each other?

As much as Steve wanted to, er, was curious about the idea, he couldn’t think of a good reason to do it.

And it didn't make him angry... He didn't know what to feel at all. He noticed lately that his training wasn't as rigorous as it used to be. His movements were slowing down, he couldn’t tell if it was a lack of motivation or an overall improvement, since he wasn’t feeling as frustrated anymore. He felt tired.

Maybe he just wanted to sleep.

And that was how Steve's daily routine went. The exhaustion was new but he figured it was from doing the same thing over and over, and he preferred it that way. It made the days feel more concrete.

Steve set Peggy's file down, knowing it was better to just not change the routine. He made sure he had his wallet, keys, and identification before he headed out.

Right when he reached for the handle there was a knock.

Steve paused, staring at the door with a furrowed brow. Did he just imagine that? Director Fury usually phoned him every Monday morning at six AM. Who would--

Another knock, quiet and brisk.  

Steve glanced through the peephole, even more confused than before as he opened the door.

"Nat-- I mean, Miss Romanoff. Hi."

It felt surreal, Natasha standing on his doorstep in civilian clothes that fit her nicely. Her hair was longer but she was the same, even the way that the side of her mouth quirked up like a cat.

"Hello Steve. How are you?"

Steve rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the nerves creep up his spine. "Fine, I’m alright. Do you wanna come in?"

"Of course."

Steve shut the door once she was inside. 

"I like what you've done with the place," she said. “Very… clean.”

"Well, I'm not here all that much. Not much of a chance for it to get messy," Steve admitted. “Should probably dust the place though.”

Natasha didn't respond and he wondered if he should have lied instead. Then she said, "Well, I happened to be in the area and I decided to drop by. See how Captain Rogers was doing."

He cracked a smile, trying not to show that, well, that made him downright giddy. Already he was feeling more awake. A little more alive.

"I was gonna grab something to eat, actually. You're welcome to join me if you want to, of course."

"I'd like that," Natasha sounded genuine enough, and Steve held the door for her on the way out.

 

* * *

 

"So Coulson is okay after all?" They were sitting at Steve's usual place for breakfast, he wanting more than anything to share it with someone else. Natasha seemed to like it enough, sipping her coffee and carrying on conversation like a regular person, not the formidable agent that she was.  

"Physically yes. He is still recuperating but he is making progress. Mentally, he's dying a little more inside on a daily basis since agents have been assigned to monitor him when he’s on the field."

"I could imagine how anxious he must be," Steve said. "But at least he has people looking out for him in case there’s an accident."

Natasha rolled her eyes. “Oh, there have been accidents, but not on Phil’s part. More of it’s difficult for any agents to keep up with a veteran of a Level 7 clearance.”

“Yeah, that would do it.” He couldn’t help but wonder why Director Fury hadn’t told him though. Why would he forget to mention it?

Natasha nodded and took a bite of her sandwich. "Lucky for him, our resident hawk has been hovering up top as well. He has also permanently nested in his room."

"Well it shows that he cares. They are partners." Steve couldn't help but think back to WWII, the Howling Commandoes. They dubbed him the "mother hen" of the group since he was quick to react to any injury. Or so they told him.

He could have sworn Natasha was smirking when she said, "That is true, in more ways than one."

“What do you mean? Do they hang out off duty too?”

Natasha didn’t respond, and it took a while for Steve to understand what she meant. She was finishing her food when the idea sunk in and his brow rose, a response trying to form to what she suggested. "W-wait, Phil and Clint--"

"Can I get you two anything else?" Beth asked. Usually she stuck around for a bit to chat but she'd been somewhat distant this time around. Maybe not as many people were working today.  

"This'll be fine, thank you," Natasha said in a sweet tone.

"Oh?” Beth turned to Steve. “No slice of apple pie for you?"

"Actually, that, that sounds good," he fumbled, feeling heated under the collar.

"Coming right up." The waitress glanced at Natasha in a way Steve didn't understand before she walked away.

"Phil and Clint," Steve turned back to Natasha. "Those two are an item?"

"Since Phil first woke up in the hospital. Why?" Natasha arched an eyebrow. "Is this a problem?"

"Of course not," Steve immediately said. "I just, I guess the concept is a little new to me. Didn’t know it was alright to date co-workers."

“Although it was rumored that Captain America had a sweetheart of his own.”

Steve grimaced and remained silent.

"If you don't mind me asking..." Natasha leaned forward and Steve perked up. "Have you ever even considered dating another man, Captain Rogers?"

It was an honest question that made Steve more thoughtful than embarrassed. It never occurred to him, thinking of another man in that light. He used to wonder about the kinda person he'd end up with pre-serum, since girls usually looked past, er, over him. In the military he had Peggy, at least for a little while. But all the guys that he could think of he just saw as friends, as comrades. Even Bucky who was a close friend of his was just that, a good friend. He guessed Howard wasn't that bad, but only since he looked so much like Tony--

Steve hoped to God that Natasha didn't hear that, when he remembered he never said it aloud. She was staring at him funny though.

He cleared his throat and was about to speak, when two things occurred: Beth returned with his dessert,

And gunshots sounded off in the distance.

Steve dropped the money on the table and along with Widow he took off in the direction that the crowds were running from. Out of the back of her jeans Widow whipped out two handguns and she tossed Cap one. His shield was back at his apartment so the gun would have to make due.

He could see them down the street: a wall of guys clad in dark armor, wielding massive guns. The style of clothing and the weaponry were familiar; Cap almost wanted to say they were--

Widow and he ducked into a nearby alleyway as bullets showered the street.

Widow had her cellphone out, probably contacting S.H.I.E.L.D., while Cap accessed the area. The cops hadn’t arrived. People who were gunned down lay in the streets in pools of their own blood. Whether they were alive or not the soldiers did not waver, seconds from trampling the bodies that were unable to move out of the way.

"Widow, can you circle around them? I'll keep them distracted." Cap picked up a trash can lid, this would have to do.

She nodded. "We'll have backup in under a minute." And she was off, heels noiseless against the pavement.

A minute for backup was a minute too late with the lives of others at stake. Cap hurled the trash can at the human barricade before rushing at them, blocking the rain of bullets with the lid. The ricochet whined in his ears but he kept his aim, shooting two in the head when another was taken down, Cap catching the flash of red hair. He got close enough to punch a guy right in the jaw, the armor denting around his fist. He grabbed the guy and hurled him at the remaining soldiers. Their formation was bad as well, scrambling like ants to keep up and again Cap thought of HYDRA--

He threw another guy and spun toward his next target, when an arrow lodged right into the guy's eye socket.

Cap caught the gleam of armor on a high rooftop, as another arrow soared through the air, hitting the gun of a guy aiming for him. Widow was on another guy, disarming him and strewing him against the pavement.

Hawkeye was here? Cap fell back to get a better look, wondering if the rest of S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn’t too far behind.  Did they have previous information about the attack? Well that would explain why Natasha had appeared on his doorstep.

Cap didn’t realize how winded he was until he was out of the fight. He leaned against one of the store walls, allowing himself a few seconds to catch his breath. 

Was it possible to be outta practice even with the serum? He would have to up his training regimen.

A streak of bright blue brought Cap's attention back to the fight, or what was the fight. It was a repulsor blast that took out the last soldier, shot from the hotrod red suit in the sky. The Iron Man suit. Steve smiled at the sound of Tony's voice.

"Was this party S.H.I.E.L.D. exclusive? Sounds like a boring company retreat." He landed in what Steve learned to be a trademark stance, a few feet away from Natasha.

"Stark, you need to revise your definition of 'party'," Natasha said, clicking the safety back on her gun.

"Glad to see you Romanoff, peppy as always."

"Speak for yourself, 'Tasha. I could use a party." Clint was off the roof, the last one to make it over. "Though this was a pretty weak one. Like these guys learned marksmanship from a cereal box. Took Cap by surprise though."

"Oh yes, our resident Uncle Sam." Stark took off his helmet and Steve felt his stare from behind. "Well time catches up with the best of us, eh Cap?"

Steve glanced over, really beginning to wonder if the people of this age could read minds. Because after searching one of the soldiers for some sort of identification, he found the pendant of a skull with tentacles protruding out of the bottom.

It was funny in a weird humorless way, that of all the things that followed him into the 21st century, it had to be the reason he was here in the first place. 


	2. Impeccable Timing

If Tony had to admit exactly when he started liking Captain America as a person, it'd have to be when they were forced to work together on the enemy infested, screaming metal death trap as it plummeted thousands of feet toward the ocean. Really made him appreciate a guy who was competent enough to save him from a makeshift blender.

Now, if Tony Stark was held at gunpoint, struck deaf and dumb and had all his limbs chopped off, he'd consider admitting - in a makeshift gurgle - that he fell for Steve Rogers right after the Battle of Manhattan. Right after he fell to his death and was caught like the winning pass by a Hulk, or so he was told. But anyway, he remembered being in space, the missile leaving his hands, feeling too small in a sea of stars and delirious from the lack of oxygen.

The last thing he imagined was the look on Pepper's face, furious that he just offed himself, and shoving a stiletto heel up his ass in the afterlife - if there was one...

But the first thing he saw when he woke up was Steve, caked in dirt and blood and sweat, watching him with those bright blue eyes like beacons that lit the way home just for him. No, _no_ , that was a slippery slope Tony was sliding down and his mouth began to move to diffuse the heartbeat that didn't want to decelerate.

"What just happened...? Please tell me nobody kissed me."

Did he just say that? It was word vomit gone incredibly wrong and Tony was snowballing into a place he couldn't recover from, and if that didn’t do it in for him, he made the mistake of glancing at Steve's face. Steve, dammit Steve, hitting him with the killing blow: that concern of his melting into an effortless smile and burying Tony in this, this adolescent heat. He wanted to lick the sweat and grime off of him until he was in brand spankin' new condition like Agent's vintage cards.

"You ever tried Schwarma?" _Did he just ask Steve out on a date?_ He assured himself that the question was meant for everyone, but Steve especially. They won, the battle was over despite the millions of dollars in collateral damage, but Tony needed a minute, just a few more minutes to talk to Steve without sounding needy or obsessed because the moment the Initiative chapter was over they'd all be going their separate ways.

Fortunately Tony somehow managed to convince everyone to get Schwarma afterward. Unfortunately, everyone was too tired to really stimulate a conversation, and Steve fell asleep. At least Tony got to sneak glimpses of him with Thor's almighty chewing in his ear.

Then Thor and Loki went back Into the Woods. The Agents went their own separate ways. Bruce asked for a ride to the nearest highway, where he’d hitchhike his way back to some third world country. Tony made sure Bruce left with a parting gift, a cellphone, so their science-bromance didn’t burn out.

Tony shook hands with Steve, and Steve placed a hand on his shoulder that sent sparks along his skin. And then he was gone, riding off with a sense of purpose while Tony felt more lost than before.

Or at least the loss didn’t kick in until he was back in damaged tower, having Pepper right there to help him pick up the pieces. Pepper was good at these things, picking up all the parts and organizing them accordingly. Tony had nothing to worry about.

And Pepper actually didn’t shove a stiletto up his ass when she stormed through the tower and found him, suit mangled and him not better off. She was beside herself, yelling at him like saving the world was irresponsible, and he was an idiot, and then her flawless seams began to tear into something else when she shook in his arms. The shoulder of his suit where she rested her head grew damp. It was… it was something else. There wasn’t a language Tony knew that could describe what that was like, to have someone literally shake him for offing himself, the good of humanity or not.

Was he a dick? He was a dick.

But Pepper forgave his dickery and even continued going out with him, and the past months have been great. Really nice. Tony could not live without this feeling, without her.

It would all be okay. Tony finally had Pepper and everything was getting back on track. It took five months, really nineteen weeks and six days but who was counting, but the Tower was rebuilt and better than ever. Pepper was off being a CEO and a damn good one at that, the company was doing swell - as long as it wasn't up in flames, that was swell - and shit, Tony Stark had saved the world! With Secret Agents and a Hulk and the God of British plays, and Captain frikken America.

And it was in the past.

He'd get over it. Eventually. No really, he'd eventually readjust to his life.

 

* * *

 

It was another day down in the workshop, AC/DC on full blast but a dull beat in the back of his head as he fiddled with the schematics of the Mark XV. Like changing the 15 to numerals, made it feel more official, then he changed it back because it reminded him of sundials. There would be no ancient technology associated with his name.

Then Dummy ended up colliding with one of the tables, propelling stray parts and gadgets across the room.

"The hell!" Tony dove for the ground and began gathering everything up. "I didn't put rockets on your wheels so you'd be suicidal. Damn paper weight."

"Sir, I don't believe Dummy is capable of accommodating such an advanced upgrade."

"He's adaptable, can teach an old bot new code."

"It's been four days."

"He's been making progress!" Tony dumped the scraps back on the table. "JARVIS, what else do you think needs rockets? I can install them on anything, just name it."

"So I'm aware. You've already installed them onto every piece of household furniture. There is also the matter of the new laser function in the microwave."

"Huh, that doesn't make sense." Tony sat in one of the rolling chairs, which he tumbled out of when the rockets launched it across the room. "The toaster should have lasers, cuts the bread while simultaneously toasting."

"Sir, have you considered what Miss Potts will say about your renovations?"

"One of the many things we'll talk about when she gets back." In any case Tony hounded her enough with his phone calls. Any more and it'll just be pathetic. More pathetic than rocket-fueled appliances.

Tony sighed and took a swig of his coffee. Already cold. He ran his fingers through his hair and checked the news. It was always boring but even more so now because there wasn’t any crime to stop. What could happen that would top an alien invasion led by a god riddled with teen angst? A hard act to follow up. Even flipping through the channels did no good, there wasn’t a face on there that he recognized.

Things in Tony's head was quiet, or maybe there was so much going on that it all cancelled each other out, and he was left with fidgety hands and nothing to work with.

He thought about hacking into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database because it was now a hobby of his and it was obnoxiously simple. Then he remembered Fury appearing at his doorstep and threatening him with words, and that eye of his, but actual words of placing Tony on house arrest. And they could do it too, with their damn agents and their tasers, and Phil, who was very much alive and decided to name himself at that.

Even though Fury made the call he wasn't. Tony understood it was for the good of the people and all that jazz, but to think, the first thing Fury decided to do when Agent was down was rub his cards all over his flesh wounds, or maybe someone else's flesh wounds. That's an awkward visual.

"JARVIS, I'm not pathetic am I? Actually, don't answer that." Only a select few knew the real answer to that, everyone else missed his crucial details to fully comprehend the question.

Tony rested his head on one of his desks, not tired, no that wasn't the case at all. His eyes were wide open but he wasn't seeing anything.

It was the middle of November - or beginning, Tony forgot the exact day - and all he accomplished was fixing up the Tower, and tinkering.

A God awful lot of tinkering. He made it up to the Mark 15 and the only “upgrades” made was a lighter, thinner but sturdier base, and a 13% flight increase. His lab was looking _more_ civilized by the day, and less like the beloved scrapheap utopias of the past. None of his tinkering amounted to anything and by the end of the day he’d dissemble it or just throw it away. And if asked what exactly he wanted any of it to do, he couldn’t guarantee not flinging his coffee cup at the wall.

Just a whole lot of tinkering and no end results, and it made his fingers twitch all the more.

"I wouldn't say pathetic, exactly," the AI said. And then he added, "I believe the term is restless."

" _But why?_ " Tony nearly shouted, as Dummy slammed into the wall. "Dammit." Snatching a screwdriver, Tony began to dismantle the rockets on Dummy's wheels. "You're one man-bot war against my lab needs to stop."

Dummy chirped, and if Tony pinned an emotion on it, it would be gratitude. Well Dummy has a purpose, which didn't involve light speed. Putting out fires. Simple, easy, and somewhat efficient. Tony has the suits. He has clean energy. He had the Avengers.

Dammit he was restless.

But the real question was why? He had nowhere to go but up but he fell stagnant, bumping his head repeatedly against an invisible ceiling that wouldn’t budge.  He felt like he was waiting for something to give, something to finally happen.

But that wasn't his style. Things either just happened, or Tony made them happen. Why was he waiting for the ceiling to break when he could bust it open himself? This was a severe case of herolag and he needed to hop off and get things going again. Make upgrades to the suits, to the Tower, he could do this.

Tony stood up and said, "Let's get back to work--" right when JARVIS caught word from S.H.I.E.L.D. of gunshots going off just down the street from the tower.

"Right when I stopped being restless. Typical." But Tony wasn't complaining as he went for the Mark 15.

 

* * *

 

By the time Tony arrived the scene was under control, soldiers in all black lying in the streets. There were a few stragglers that Natasha was taking out, wait, Black Widow Natasha in regular clothes implementing that thigh choke thing while Clint was on a rooftop, shooting the rest down. Well so much for Tony saving the day--

And then the HUD targeted a familiar blonde without the Stars and Stripes. Tony's reactor did both a strange flutter and a jolt because he was within speaking distance.    

Weird emotion like things manifested into a repulsor blast that took out the last guy of the bunch, and Cap jolted from his place on the wall.

Wait, was he _sleeping_?

"Was this party S.H.I.E.L.D. exclusive?" Tony eyed Cap. "Sounds like a boring company retreat."

He landed by the biggest pile of henchmen and Natasha didn’t waste any time reprimanding him. "Stark, you need to revise your definition of 'party'."

"Glad to see you Romanoff, peppy as always."

"Speak for yourself, 'Tasha. I could use a party.” Clint said. “Though this was a pretty weak one. Like these guys learned marksmanship from a cereal box." Tony was starting to wonder why he didn't talk to this guy more. "Took Cap by surprise though."

"Oh yes, our resident Uncle Sam." Tony didn't understand why he took off his helmet, but Cap walked past them, to the bodies. "Well time catches up with the best of us, eh Cap?"

There wasn't a response, not even a _hello, how are you, you might have been in and out of my thoughts_. Did Tony already offend him? That had to be a record.

Then Steve turned around and held up some octopus emblem, one that jogged Tony's thoughts but not quite--

"HYDRA," he heard Natasha say.

That was when the hulking S.H.I.E.L.D. cars pulled into the street.

 

* * *

 

 

Everything that Patchy told them about Tentacles Anonymous were things that Tony already knew thanks to Daddy Dearest, from the radicalism of the whole magical science aspect, and the Tesseract infused nukes that nearly annihilated the States. Of course that didn't happen, thanks to the Super Soldier that sat in the room, hands folded a little too tight on the desk. The Agents hung in the room like shadows, taking in Fury’s words without so much as a flinch and it was unnerving.

Tony couldn't stand all this debriefing; did they usually sit around like this? His knee bounced, eyes flickering around the room, taking in the room, the round table, the overhead lights. Like subway rats, S.H.I.E.L.D. hid underground.

"So..." Cappy waited for Patchy to finish. "HYDRA still exists. Back in World War Two, all those bases we took out--"

Before Tony could ask who "we" was, Fury said, "Those were only the tip of the iceberg."

"An ice reference. Original," Tony avoided Fury's singular glare.

"That's cold, Stark." Clint cracked a smirk.

Steve slammed his fist on the table and everyone got silent. He looked ready to tell them all off but he kept his stare on Director Fury. “Everything the Commandos and I did, all those missions, what was that all for? All the sacrifices made--”

Steve faltered and Patchy picked it back up. "Well you sure as hell put a giant dent in their plans, if I may be so blunt.” He looked at Steve like he was insane, and that smile without humor was damn terrifying. “The reality of the situation is that Johann Schmidt's division was just that, a smaller division that we happened to catch on the radar, which you stamped out. What HYDRA is a hive, an entire underground network that lies under the surface of said radar. We've stamped out individual flares whenever they've surfaced, but we cannot eradicate what we cannot see. Do I make myself clear?"

Cap didn't say anything.

Fury continued. "Now I understand that it's a lot to take in, but as with everything else it's going to take time. In the meanwhile, I need your cooperation. Our goal is not eradication because that would take years, even if all of you skipped food and sleep. We need to find out their objective and take them down."

Steve nodded, keeping his stare on the table. Agent entered with a stack of files in his arms. “Director, the soldiers we apprehended have been identified."

"Great, now we can ship them back to their tyrannical families," Tony said. Must make great holiday photos.

Natasha, as usual, ignored his genius. "What did you find out?"

"That for the most part they are American citizens. Most of them in fact work, reside, or frequent Manhattan. Some even had relatives in proximity. The group we dealt with congregated to that area for what appears to be a planned attack."

"So then we're dealing with spies," Natasha said.

"But why a flash mob of spies? They were quick to blow their cover," Clint said.

"And they may very well do it again," Fury glanced up from the files sprawled out on the table, of these regular people.   "We have to find them and take them out before any more damage can be done."

“People are already on the case,” Agent said.  "But we barely have a starting point to spring from. By the looks of it, these spies are rogue. We can't trace them back to their base since it is nonexistent. We'll start looking, but it will take time. Perhaps if I placed the agents assigned to me on this task, then the process might accelerate--”

“Out of the question, Coulson,” Fury barked.  

"Then we'll have to be ready to act the next time HYDRA appears." Steve glanced up at the door and Tony almost felt bad for the next spy who walked in.

"It’s going to be a fun time assembling since we're spread out all over the place," Clint scoffed. "Can't react as a unit when the unit is dispersed."

"Here's a solution." Tony stood up, because really he couldn't take sitting here anymore, and all the stationary conversation. Made him want to pull out his hair. "The Avengers move in at my place. It's huge, I have more rooms than what to do with and too much money to burn. It'll be a huge, team-building slumber party."

"Stark," Fury rounded onto him.

Tony threw his hands up. "No really! Gunshots literally happened down the street from me. We'd all be there in no time, we could all hold hands. Or they could, I won't--"

"Stark, enough." Fury sighed and shut his eye, hand massaging his temple. "I may get indigestion saying this, but you may have an idea here."

Tony sputtered. "What? Could you repeat that--"

" _In-di-gestion_ , Stark."

"Noted."

“But if the Avengers are all in one location, wouldn’t that make it easier for HYDRA to attack us?” Romanoff had the nerve to say.

“What? Whoa.” Tony tried to turn his chair but it screeched against the hard floor. He toppled the chair over and stood up, yeah that caught everyone’s attention. “That’s an assumption Romanoff, you are assuming that they can come within proximity of the tower undetected, somehow get through my security systems while simultaneously breaking through the building, all within the miniscule timespan allotted before we could  detect what was happening, and then overpower us. That’s a big assumption to make.”

There was a gleam in Romanoff’s eye that made Tony want to twitch. “And you are assuming the opposite, Stark, by believing that you are too powerful to be toppled over in an instant. Though miniscule the opportunity still exists, and if there is an opportunity to be taken advantage of, they will take it.”

“Then I won’t give it to them.” Tony crossed his arms and shrugged. “In any case what is your alternative?  You can stay at S.H.I.E.L.D. with what, the neon signs hanging over their doors? Just one arrow can knock this place out of commission, isn’t that right Barton?”

“Haha, yeah… Right,” Clint said, smirk tight across his face. Did he not believe Tony had a valid point?

“Does anyone else have an opinion on the matter, if Stark is done insulting my entire organization,” Fury said.

“I believe the agents should move into the Tower.” Everyone turned to Agent, who added, “Please refrain from staring, I didn't think indigestion was contageous.” Everyone was against Tony, he swore. “Although Clint and Natasha are two of our best agents, sending them on missions has recently become an issue. Their faces are known to the public thanks to all of the past media coverage. It may benefit them more to stay with Stark versus staying here, since their lack of versatility has limited their mission capability.”

“Hey I am plenty versatile, and still in the room.” Clint waved his hand in the air. “I’m my own man; I can make my own decisions.”

“Then what is your decision, Barton?” Patchy said. 

"Stark has actual beds, and everything is a party for him. So party at his place." Clint placed his arms behind his head, grinning.

“Your logic is sound,” Agent said with the equivalent of human humor.

“It couldn’t hurt then,” Romanoff said. “The food would be better at least.” Takes a stab at his genius and then freeloads all over him. Tony saw how it was. “Captain Rogers, what about you?” she added.  

Steve, looking tired and stressed and delicious, looked at Tony and said, "It’s a good call. And if there is the chance that HYDRA, or anyone else might get the upper hand, we would just need to be ready at all times. Gives us more reason to keep in top shape.”

Steve was staying in the tower; if kidney stone passed through Tony at that moment it would have went unnoticed. The rest of the day moved as a weird blur, how quickly all of this went into motion.

It was weird to stand in his living room and see everyone pass through with their luggage, Clint with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and Natasha with a rolling case and matching hand bag. Clint looked around and gave a low whistle, and Tony smirked at his awe. But when Tony saw how little things they had and asked where the rest of their stuff was, they both stared at him funny.

“Some of us don’t require luxuries,” Romanoff stated. “Now would you be so kind as to show us our rooms?”

And out of the kindness of Tony’s heart - and love for his manhood - he showed them their rooms.

Cap was the same way, not the superiority complex part but the lack of luggage. He stood straight, suitcase at his side, looking small for a big guy as he stood in the middle of the living room, if that made sense. He didn’t say much other than thanks when Tony led him to his bedroom. Just a nod, a thanks, and he entered.  

It was weird to see freakin’ Agent in his tower and being harassed not because he was on the job, but because Barton let him in. Something about dating, he didn’t look into it too much. Especially after Phil was about to sit on one of the rocket-installed chairs and Tony immediately fled the room before he could hear the crash.

Agents. Agents everywhere. 

It was weird to pass through on the way to lab and find Steve sitting on his couch, watching the news on his TV, and dozing off because of it. Tony took a few seconds longer than he should have to just watch him sleep… The length of Cap’s eyelashes was ridiculous.

And if things weren’t weird enough, Pepper’s impeccable timing consisted of walking in with Tony gawking at Steve, which he played off by saying he was watching the news. She raised an eyebrow and kissed him instead of asking any questions… And that happened to be weird too. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My original plan was to have a chapter out every Sunday, however this coming Sunday I might already have to break that. I'm heading up to Boston and I'm not sure if I'll have enough time to edit it, but I'll try to plan accordingly. 
> 
> Every chapter I'll be alternating between Steve and Tony's POV, so you'll be getting equal shares of the madness.
> 
> Thanks for reading! :)


	3. Defense Mode

The Avengers moving into Stark’s Tower was different to say the least. It didn't take long for Steve to settle in since he didn't have much to travel with. But the moment Steve stepped inside he felt propelled forward in time once again. The rooms were sleek and huge on luxury but tiny with technology, and there were a bunch of knobs and triggers and settings that Steve wished he had a manual on. Mind you he did ask for one, and Tony looked at him like he was speaking French.

Come to think of it, JARVIS was the closest he was gonna get; Steve nearly jumped out of his skin when he first spoke. Tony assured it was a computer but Steve didn’t know what to feel about that. Artificial intelligence and actual intelligence was getting hard to define, and having something smart like that watching his every move at all times was a little unnerving. But Tony programmed JARVIS to accept certain commands, anything that would help the Avengers settle in. Steve was warming up to the concept, although he was still unsure of how to refer to the AI.

And again Steve jumped when Clint tried using the microwave, and a laser nearly cut off his fingers, and Natasha struck the appliance with throwing knives. She assured Steve that no, appliances in the new millennium did not have a defense mode, and that Tony thought it was somehow a good idea to fasten lasers and rocket boosts on anything and everything. Kinda unsettling, but doable.

But what Steve thought was the most unnerving thing about the tower wasn't the technology, but Miss Pepper Potts.

Pepper arrived on the second day, her walk strong and professional on tall, slender heels, not a hair out of place of her neat ponytail or a stray fold in her clothes. She moved with the confidence of a veteran marching into battle, and it tugged at something familiar in Steve’s chest. He didn’t say that aloud though.

They shook hands and she spoke with a pleasant smile, asking if he was fully situated in the Tower. Steve replied that he was well enough, but it was a little difficult with all the jet fueled appliances.

Pepper's mood flicked off like a switch.

" _The what_ ,” she said with the flash of her eyes. 

Pepper didn’t have to point a gun to Steve’s face for him to shrink back and forget how to speak proper English. Right when he managed to stammer a string of syllables, Tony entered the room and she rounded onto him like a heat seeking missile.

“Hey Pep-- You’re mad, at me? I’m just going to--”

“Did you install rockets onto the furniture?”

“--go that way.” Tony increased his pace but Pepper was following him and for Tony’s sake Steve interjected, "He'll just take the enhancements off of everything, right Tony?"

"I will?" Pepper's nostrils flared. "I mean, I will. Yep, dismantling, right now." He gestured to a random direction before swiftly walking away.

Pepper turned to Steve and her outer shell collapsed into concern. "I'm sorry you had to witness that. Are you okay? You look pale." She placed a hand on his forehead.

It didn’t matter what century it was; Steve still didn’t know a thing about women.

 

* * *

 

 

When Steve woke up the room was still dark, with soft jazz playing in the background. He suppressed a yawn and studied the bright numbers of his alarm clock, vision too blurred for him to understand right away. He finally read it as 10:13AM; his alarm had been going off for over a couple hours.

"JARVIS?" Steve glanced around, still unsure where to look when talking to the program. "Is it daytime?"

"Indeed it is, Sir. Would you like to see for yourself?"

Steve nodded and the windows began to brighten. Although the city was incredibly overcast, it was still well into the morning.

How did he manage to sleep through his alarm? Maybe Steve set it wrong, it did take him a bit to figure it out, and he might have forgotten to switch PM to AM when he discovered the customization on this little clock. Really he was floored at finding as many jazz musicians as he did... Maybe jazz wasn't the smartest genre use for an alarm, but he couldn't help himself--

The entire building shuddered beneath a piercing lightning strike.

"Nasty weather outside," Steve murmured.

"It appears that there is someone on the roof," JARVIS said.

In under a second Cap was out of bed, moving for his shield that was propped against the wall. He bolted out the room as Hawkeye and Widow ran up the stairs. Tony was missing, maybe going for his suit?

Who managed to get on the roof and what was the team in for? There might be jets, helicopters, maybe it was HYDRA staging an attack, a counter assault, but he was assuming that the offender was even human, then what--

Steve wasn’t too far off. He ran onto the rooftop just in time to see The God of Thunder hoisting Clint into the air for a backbreaking hug.

"My friends, I have missed all of you dearly!" Thor was grinning from ear to ear, and besides the small changes to his armor, he was still the same guy. He set a disoriented Clint down and hugged Natasha with not as nearly as much force.

"Good to see you, God of Thunder," Clint groaned out of a crushed windpipe.

"There is no need for formalities, Friend Hawk. Please, call me Thor!"

Steve took a few steps forward, not realizing how happy he was to see a familiar face until Thor turned to him.

"Ah, Friend Steven!" he boomed, eyes brightening more if possible. Steve tried to brace himself but Thor lifted him off of his feet, cold armor pressing against Steve's skin.

"Thor!" Steve said, caught between a laugh and a choke, "How have you been?"

"Yes, and to what do we owe you the pleasure of your visit?" Natasha said, voice warm.

"I am well for the most part." Thor set Steve down. "Though I wish it was on better terms… Have I arrived at a bad time?"

Steve looked around and realized that they were all in their night clothes, Clint in just a pair of cartoon themed boxers, Natasha in her underwear - Steve quickly glanced away - and he in just slacks.

And they all had their weapons.

"Well if we're being honest," Clint began, when Tony walked onto the roof in just his undershirt and boxers,   coffee cup in hand.

"Do you all hate technology or something? Really, JARVIS has roof visuals, and then you guys wouldn't of gone Rambo on our visitor--"

And then Thor plucked Tony off the ground, the coffee cup falling from his hand and shattering against the roof.

"Ah, Friend Tony! You look well!" Thor laughed, not noticing the broken cup or Tony’s whimpering.

"Computer was moving a little slow," Steve couldn't help but say.

"Yep, go in and see firsthand, balls to the wall," Clint added.

Tony crumpled when Thor set him down. "Barton, no one wants to hear about your balls, even if they're covered by cartoon children."

"Hey, don't insult the South Park boxers."

Natasha rolled her eyes while Thor was more enthused. “Ah, a park! One of many discussions we must partake in, though I thought it was more central than south of New York?”

"Thor, no, it's a show..."

Either way, by the time Thor arrived Steve wasn't at all phased. In fact it was nice to have someone just as giddy as he was to see a familiar face. Even though they didn't speak much they worked well together in the field, and maybe the both of them could attempt to learn this new millennium together.

Thor demanded “the disc-shaped cloud like cakes” when Natasha asked if he was hungry, and as fast as Clint cooked, Thor was putting it away. To be honest Steve was surprised that the little stool Thor sat in hadn’t broken yet as he scarfed down sections of Clint’s breakfast. 

"Although the circumstances are not as dire as my previous visit, they are still troubling,” Thor said, between helpings of toast.  “I am afraid that our dealings with the Tesseract are not over."

Clint poured more eggs into the pan. "What? You mean your brother ran off with it again?"

"I assure you Chef Hawk, the Tesseract is safe within my Father's vault, and Loki is in Asgardian prison-" Thor's tone wavered, "Where he belongs."

"Then someone else managed to harness its energy while it was here," Steve said.

Thor nodded. "That may be the case. Being that I had dealings with Midgard, I was chosen to obtain any traces that may or may not remain. I require lodgings."

"Well you've already eaten half of the fridge.You might as well sleep here too," Tony said without looking up from a thin, glass sort of screen in his hands.

"Many thanks, Friend Tony. Though if your stock was not so puny, you may not be facing a shortage."

"Puny?" Tony snapped up, "My stock is not puny. Anything but. I can feed ten gods. Chunky, PMSing gods at that-” Steve winced when Natasha’s gaze flickered up- “Just haven't done the groceries yet- What?"

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” Natasha went back to her magazine.

"You should get on that." Clint shoveled fresh eggs onto a plate before dumping the pan in the sink. "Cap's been also eating you out." He smirked. "Of your stock."

Steve didn't understand the reference, but now Tony’s narrowed stare snapped from Natasha and onto Clint. "No he's not. Since when? He’s a Super Soldier, requires small portions of food, sleep, and war bonds.”

"Nonsense, His plate is pristine! The Good Captain is famished," Thor declared.

"Well I’m not starving, but…" Steve’s stomach growled.

"Four times the average metabolism," Natasha hummed.

Tony shot out of his seat. "JARVIS, we need groceries. Stat."

"I ordered groceries this morning, they should be arriving at any moment," Pepper assured, putting their morning habits to shame as she entered in professional wear.

"See, I'm a horrible host. We'd starve without you." Tony kissed Pepper on the lips.

"You starve yourself regardless. And you must be Thor," Pepper said to the guy who's cheeks were full of pancakes.

Thor immediately stood, swallowed and kneeled. "That I am. I was unaware of Friend Tony's personal relations."

"Don't know when that would of come up, what with saving the world from imminent doom..." Tony mumbled.

"O-oh! You don't need to bow, it's fine. Really. I'm Virginia Potts."

"Pepper," Tony coughed.

“The pleasure is mine Pepper Potts, and may I say how formidable your footwear is.” Thor stood up.  

“Thank you.” Pepper cocked her head to the side. “These wouldn’t have been my first choice, but I couldn’t find the right pair.”

“Why? Have they been stolen?”

“No, disorganized.” Pepper’s brow twitched. “I’ve been meaning to organize my shoe rack but with how crazy my schedule’s been, I haven’t had any time…”

“Then I shall take on the task. I promise I will not fail you.”

“I appreciate the offer, but do you have any experience in organizing?”

“I do not, but a warrior never falters. Come now, show me your collection.”

The two left the kitchen, and after a few seconds Tony broke the silence.

“Tesseract, who cares? That can wait.” Tony quipped.

Since the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, at least not without the entire team, Steve began to do the dishes. There was no doubt that HYDRA and the Tesseract was connected, with the gap between the Battle of Manhattan and what was happening now. Natasha and Clint had mentioned a case where a stray piece of Chitauri equipment got into the hands of two regular civilians; what else could of been lying around, just asking to be snatched?

The HYDRA assault was enacted with regular guns. What would they be utilizing the Tesseract for?

Steve figured he’d bring it up whenever they were updated on HYDRA’s whereabouts, since all the Avengers could do now was wait and respond accordingly.

They had already waited weeks.

Nearly two weeks and there hadn’t been any updates since the initial attack. Steve knew that the moment something turned up Phil would inform them, but with each day he grew more restless. So much so that asking Phil felt like harassment, or at least he figured it would be since he asked Phil whenever he saw him. Phil wasn’t shy of visiting Stark’s Tower, especially since Natasha and Clint were here.

 

* * *

 

 

Natasha assured him that as soon as something turns up they will be the first to be notified. Steve could only nod in response.

“Without a lead we are walking blind,” she said at the beginning of week three. “It’s reckless to enter any situation without knowing the specifics firsthand.”

“I know.” Steve kept his eyes on the videogame Clint and Thor were playing, something that involved swinging a little remote around like a bat or ball. Thor hadn’t quite mastered the concept. The broken coffee table was proof of that. “I know.” He sat back and took a deep breath, held it, exhaled. “Just that--”

“It’s personal?”

“I know what they’re capable of, and being idle like this when they’re out there, planning God knows what…”

“And we’ll be ready for it.” Natasha placed a hand on his knee, freshly painted nails gleaming bright.

Steve sharply exhaled but nodded, making a mental note to calm down. He was getting tired of hearing himself talk about this, and mulling over it wasn’t doing him any good. 

“This man-made machine is false!” Thor growled, “It claims to not register my motions, when I am clearly in the recommended space of merriment!”

“Uh…” Clint lowered his arm to gawk. “Maybe your Wiimote is off, unless-- what’s that falling from your hand?”

Thor opened his hand and white fragments fell onto the carpet, as well as the cracked remains.

“The Wiimote, I know the instructions said to keep a good grip but, actually.” Clint set down his controller. “How ‘bout we do something else.”

“Certainly, Friend Clint. This game has me baffled; you have yet to elaborate on the lack of bowls in a game in which it is named after.”

“Yeah, sure,” Clint said, looking pained. “But how about you finish elaborating on how Asgardians are like bears.”

“I do not understand the reference.”

Natasha set down her nail polish. “What he means is for you to continue your explanation on the Odinsleep, was it? Do all Asgardians enter a period like that, or is it just your father?”

“It is just the Alfather.” Thor plopped down on the couch, making Natasha bounce just a bit. “My father may be all powerful, but even great power has its limitations. It is the reason as to how I am able to travel between worlds without the Bifrost. But when his power reaches its limit, he enters a period known as the Odinsleep. We know not when he will awaken, but he is still all seeing. It is a period where he recuperates his energy, and where Asgard is at its most vulnerable.”

“So he hibernates, but he’s still aware of whatever’s going on?” Clint had picked back up the remote and was scrolling through the games. “Is he even aware that he’s asleep?”

“In a sense, yes.” Thor picked up Natasha’s polish and turned it over and over in his hand, the red as vivid as his cape. “But he is unable to act to whatever he may or may not see.”

“Wow. That’s pretty trippy, being asleep like that. It’s like dying and not realizing it-- What I mean is,” Clint stammered, seeing the shock on Thor’s face. “It’s like falling asleep, right? Or being in a weird limbo place, where you’re not dead or alive, just floating along. That’s weird.”

“Since when have you become the philosopher?” Natasha quipped.

Clint shrugged. “Had a lot of down time, can you blame me?”

It was these moments of conversations where Steve’s thoughts strayed toward Dr. Banner and his whereabouts, if maybe he was interested in coming to live in the tower. He’d have to ask Tony about it later, if he was still in contact with him.

 

* * *

 

The doors automatically opened as Steve neared Tony's workshop, alarm clock tucked under his arm. Compared to how spic and span the Tower was, this room felt detached, like another leap through time. Steve was greeted by the sounds of whirring machines, and transparent screens hanging in the air. Coffee cups littering the tables overrun with schematics. The smell of oil and a twinge of something burning, with what he guessed was music drowning the entire scene out. It lowered though, and Steve was able to think straight, even with someone combining singing and screaming with noises that he wasn’t sure that he wanted to understand.

"Heya Cap, welcome to my not so humble abode." Tony was typing away on one of those transparent screens, eyes quivering between his current project and, well, Steve. "What do you need?"

"Well." He eyed one of the robots rolling by, fire extinguisher in hand. "I kinda... broke my alarm clock. Was hoping you could fix it for me? If you have the time of course."

"Broke it?" Tony swiveled his chair around, eyebrow raised. "Didn't know we had alarm clocks. But yeah, sure buddy. JARVIS, buy another one of those clocks for Cap."

"Certainly Sir--"

"Wait, I don't need - sorry for cutting in-" Steve quickly said, "What I mean is, you couldn't fix this one?"

Tony took the alarm clock from him and eyed it. "Sure I guess, but I can buy you another one of these. I can buy you ten. Or better yet, JARVIS can be your alarm."

"I appreciate that, but if it can be fixed then I don’t see why you have to buy another one.” Tony was staring at him funny, and Steve added, “Unless you can't fix it, that is."

He didn't mean for that to come out the way it did, judging by the look on Tony’s face. "Of course I can fix it. I can make it better." Before he could apologize, Tony swung to another workstation and flicked open a toolbox. "In fact, I can give it lasers. You want lasers, I bet you do.”

"I'd prefer it laser free, honestly," Steve half-joked.

Tony didn't say anything, at least not right away. Steve crossed his arms, feeling the awkwardness creep up when Tony finally spoke again. "What happened to this primitive tech, anyway?"

"It fell off the table," Steve said a little too fast.

"A table. As in a flat surface. The surface it's usually on?"

Tony's smug tone frustrated Steve but he ignored it. He did deserve that for his attempted lie. "I dropped it."

But he couldn’t recall how.  One minute it was in his hands and he was searching for a more upbeat song, and the next, it was on the floor, the screen blank.

"Please. Captain America drops things?" Tony scoffed.

"It happens more often than you might think." Though joking aside, it usually doesn't. Or at least this lapse in his memory. Steve's memory pre-serum wasn't the best, but even back then he never blanked out like that.  

Whether Tony noticed the silence or not Steve couldn't tell, but really he wanted to say something more to him. As for what, he didn't know how exactly to start a conversation with someone like him.

"This brick isn't even shock resistant. I can manipulate the metals so it won't break on impact, or dropping," Tony smirked.

"Sure." Steve shrugged a shoulder and Tony swiveled to another station. He followed, watching Tony's hands skitter across flat boards and hovering schematics. He murmured as he worked, spurting bits of information as his eyes darted from picture to picture, absorbing all the lights and converting it into words. And Steve was completely absorbed by it.

That was why Steve nearly jumped out of his skin at a sudden shriek, hands shooting for a weapon and knocking a table over instead.

Then he realized it was a song.

"That's record time for destroying a station..." Tony said.

Steve felt the blood rush to his face. "Sorry, just the, the-- Is this supposed to be music?"

"Cap, your words startle me. It is the only music that matters. Ozzy Osbourne? Nothing?" Tony paused but Steve remained silent. "C'mon, we're dealing with Rock icons! Mind you he's a little batshit crazy - you wouldn't get the joke - but you don't get much better than this. It's great."

"It's loud."

"You're soulless. This doesn't appeal to your tastes at all?"

"Well..." Steve grimaced. "I mean, if you enjoy it Tony--"

"Fine fine, you know what, JARVIS!"

"You hollered, Sir?" How could an AI sound sarcastic?

"Go through my playlist, play the first ten, no Cap's a super senior, twenty seconds of each song."

"You don't have to--"

Tony shushed and rolled his chair toward Steve. "Now sit and listen."

"Tony--"

"Steve, your ignorance is air pollution. Sit."

He was so adamant, and well, the way Tony said his name made his brain hum. Steve sat down and folded his arms, bracing himself for the incoming noises that somehow strung into a song. He tried to make sense of the flurry of drums, the high whines of electrical guitars, and other odd noises that were somehow instrumental to the piece:doors shutting and sirens blaring and cars speeding off…

It was all really creative, Steve thought that much. He understood why Tony liked this music; anything else was really too tame for his personality. And he had to admit, some of the songs were, well, catchy.

There was one song in particular, where the guitar was bold but not overbearing, and there was something sweet about it. The drums kicked it up a notch, and Steve tapped his foot to the beat. Apparently that was all the information Tony needed.

"Wait, really? This is the song that breaks your stoic silence?"

"What about it?"

"Nothing, just," Tony glanced upward, "Keep the song going, won't you sweetie?"

Steve just about gaped at him when JARVIS answered, "Only for you, Sir." Tony wasn't talking to him. Steve swallowed his panic.

The lyrics were sung in a high, shrill sort of tone, which really worked with the tamer instrumental. Though Steve didn’t know what the guy was singing about, mechanics maybe? Then the line hit him: “ _Knockin’ me out with those American_ _thighs…”_ He straightened in his seat. 

Steve strained to hear the rest of the words, trying real hard to get another meaning from the lyrics but no, he figured out what Tony meant.

_“And you shook me all night long…”_

"Um, how do you dance to this?" Steve asked, tone surprisingly smooth. Thank heavens. "Can you dance to this type of music?"

"Steve. Cap. Cappy Steve. Of course you can."

And before Steve could ask how - or about the flurry of names - Tony was moving toward him in a sort of dancing walk, shaking his hips and swaying his arms. It wasn't even on beat but Tony didn’t seem to notice, or really care. He motioned for Steve to stand up, eyebrow cocked and grin crooked.

"Oh, no I uh, I don't dance." Steve held up his hands in defense. He couldn't dance to music he understood, yet alone this. He was sure he had two left feet, or his head was on backwards, just, really bad coordination--

Tony took Steve’s wrists and tugged. Seeing that he wouldn’t budge, Tony began to shake Steve’s arms to the beat. 

"Come on soldier, up. Steve. Cap. Stevie Cappy Stevie Cap-"

"How many combinations are there?" Steve laughed.

"Many, well over 100. I'll keep going til you get up."

"That’s okay," Steve stood up, trying real hard to be stern and failing pretty bad. "I'm up, but I won't dance."

"Okay back at you, I'll dance around you. Like a patriotic maypole. Guitar solo."

And, as the guitar took the lead in the song, Tony bent back, screwing his face up as he fingered the neck of an invisible guitar while the other hand rapidly strummed. Steve hardly knew about instruments but he was sure that Tony was missing all of the notes. But there he was, head jerking around, mouthing the notes and strumming away, moving to his own tune.

So what if Tony wasn't hitting the notes, he was having fun with it, and Steve was grinning ear to ear. He found himself bobbing to the beat as the chorus kicked back in, feeling kinda stupid, but it felt okay.

“Yeah there we go!” Tony said, and Steve laughed, feeling light by Tony just watching him.

When the song ended Steve couldn’t wipe the grin from his face even after he straightened out. "The singer really knows how to belt those notes."

"Yep, that's Brian Johnson for you." Tony was panting a bit. He stretched himself out. "Hm, could use some coffee.”

Steve nodded, suppressing a yawn of his own as Tony continued. “There's more songs, or other bands. Like Guns N’ Roses, or maybe Aerosmith, I think you'd like them. If you want to listen, of course." His deep brown eyes flickered to the floor and then back up to Steve, and gosh he didn't want to disappoint. Anything but that.

"I'd like that. A lot," Steve quickly added. "If you have the time."  

"Time is subjective. Let's do this--"

"Tony?" Pepper called from the entrance, stack of manila folders in her arms. "There are several things I need you to sign, all painless if you stay still for a few minutes."

That small smile of hers faded when she found them. A slight shift, but Steve caught it, and he was suddenly aware of how close he was to Tony. Would it look weirder if he moved away?

"Painless? But my complaining is part of the routine." Tony left Steve’s side and Steve shoved his hands into his pockets. "And you're a stickler for routine. Can't disrupt it, nope."

"Not when it involves unnecessary circles." Pepper picked back up, seamless again. Did Tony manage to catch it?

"Not unnecessary, we do it all the time and the results are always different."

"No Tony, it usually the same. It's insanity."

"You're not insane--"

"You're the definition of insanity."

Steve wondered if left on their own, how long they could go with the back and forth thing. But Steve didn't want to stick around to find out. He had no idea how they came off to Pepper, but something told him he was intruding on... He didn't know what. They were having fun, just harmless fun. Really.

Steve was nearly out the door when JARVIS interrupted Pepper and Tony's round about arguing: "Sir, HYDRA is staging another attack, this time in Time Square."

Without another thought Steve headed for the exit. "Then it's time to assemble the Avengers,” he said, ignoring the chill under his skin. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does posting Chapter 3 a day before the scheduled day make up for missing a week? I hope so. Next week I'll be back on schedule so no worries, unless I'm murdered by all the work I have to do (it's a joke... no? Well damn). 
> 
> The song Steve and Tony are dancing to is You Shook Me All Night Long by AC/DC. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and get ready for some action/angst next chapter! :)


	4. Reverse the Polarity

Should Tony feel guilty for feeling giddy, come time for HYDRA’s attack? Almost titillated, if he was to get graphic. Of course it had nothing to do with the attack itself because that would be just wrong. He took it upon himself to gift all of his fellow teammates with the upgrades that they so desperately needed.

In their few weeks spent together Tony reinforced the suits all around to make them both sturdier and of a lighter weight. He not only made improvements on Barton’s bow, but he equipped him with a whole new range of arrow tips. Romanoff was outfitted with poisons for her daggers because really, a spider without venom? Tony hoped he wouldn't regret it later, but the gleam in her eyes correlated to a standing ovation. Maybe it was a good thing to do. 

As for the blondes, well Thor had enchanted armor. No improvements there. And Cap, he refused to let Tony anywhere near his shield. Couldn’t even tempt him with electrical relays. Tony - and yeah, Agent had a little input too - was able to fix up a new suit for him.

S.H.I.E.L.D. even gifted them with a jet for better avenging. How quaint. Tony spent a good deal souping that up too.

As for his own modifications, well that was a surprise.

The agents and Cap took the new and improved Quinjet while he and Thor were sent ahead to contain the attack. The communicators were up, Agent was on their line and was filling them in on the situation. HYDRA somehow managed to get a tank into Time Square undetected. Really commendable, if it wasn’t terrorizing people.

S.H.I.E.L.D. vehicles were already at the scene, black Acuras barricading the perimeter as agents rallied the civilians to a safe point. Agent said the tank was _big_. A more accurate term was Goliath, breaking up sidewalks and crushing vehicles in its wake. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s defensive wall was nothing more than an expensive speed bump.

"What’s it looking like over there?" Cap said, switching to commander mode.

"A lot of collateral damage.” Tony hung overhead the scene, absorbing the tank’s statistics via HUD at an accelerated rate.  “Civilians being evacuated by S.H.I.E.L.D.--"

"By Odin's beard!" Thor exclaimed.

Thor ascended over a caved in subway entrance as debris shot out from all directions, a barrel protruding out of the wreckage. Slowly another tank forced itself into the open air, its barrels redirecting in their direction. The doors lowered and soldiers of different heights and weights all clad in HYDRA gear marched out of the tanks, Fourth Reich style. Actually, bad joke; Cap would not appreciate that.

Tony fired up the repulsors. "Membership must be down, looks like they're taking anyone these days."

"Makes it easier for us," Clint said over the intercom.

The jet finally arrived, entering the party in a sharp descent and firing away at the tanks.  It arced at the last moment as the barrel tailed its path, shooting bullets of a deep blue hue. One connected with a neon sign and shattered like ice, dagger-like shards stabbing through that as well as the nearby buildings, weakening the entire section in one go. JARVIS noted the temperature drop. What was HYDRA doing, manipulating the climate? 

"What is our goal here?" Thor demanded, spinning his hammer in anticipation.

"The tanks,” Cap said. “S.H.I.E.L.D. has ground control, taking out their soldiers. The tanks are our main priority. Keep them away from buildings; limit the damage as much as possible. Hawkeye and Thor will take one, Iron Man and I the other. Widow will man the jet, alternating between tanks and keeping aerial on everything."

“Right. I’ll land the jet--”  

"No time for that Nat, I got this. Someone catch me."

The jet’s door opened and Agent wasted no time telling Clint off.

"Agent Barton," Agent shot. "May I remind you of your six medical reports in just this year alone, which is light for your masochistic track record?”

“The year ain’t over yet, Sir.”

“You say that as if you’re trying to ruffle my feathers--”

“Thor, lend me a hand.”

“If you splatter against the pavement, I refuse to attend your funeral--"

But Clint's crazy ass leaped out of the plane in a swan dive, bow at his side and parachute nonexistent.  Thor followed the swoop, intercepting him by the back of his uniform, and they gradually rode the momentum - which Tony had to pat Thor on the back for not snapping Clint’s limbs – and arching parallel to their assigned tank, Clint going trigger happy with his arrows. The first few were a fraction off target but Barton adjusted fast. His laughter and Thor’s hearty chuckles filled the intercom. Those two were a bromance in the making.

"Sorry Sir.” Clint was smug.  “I don't have Cap's super speed in parachute assembling."

“Clearly,” Agent cut.

"I've had a lot of practice," Cap said.

He took his dive like a gold medalist, shield angling his fall right for a tank. Tony shot past the jet on his way over, heart reactor sputtering in an irrational fear because clearly, Captain America had a parachute. And he released his parachute at the last second, HYDRA soldiers shooting it up immediately. And still Cap didn't blink as he released himself from the straps, sticking the landing on top of the tank's barrel and skidding down, deflecting all bullets with that shield, that damn shield that he threw and turned the army into a game of human pinball in seconds.

And Tony nearly creamed himself.

"Look alive Stark," Natasha said as the tank directed its barrel his way.

"Avenging. Right."

The bullet flew skyward and Tony fired up the heat before shooting it dead in the center, exploding it into snow and not malicious hail. He then flew alongside the tank, reaffirming the earlier estimations by shooting his repulsors along the side.

Not even a scratch.

"Sir, the tank is--"

"Unaffected JARVIS. You know what that means."

"We have to get inside," Cap said.

“You read my mind.” Tony tried not to sound stunned. “JARVIS give Cappy a cookie.”

“I’m fine, thanks though,” Cap said before ramming his shield into the side of a guy’s head.

Tony swooped down, shooting down the other guys running for the Super Soldier. Cap turned to face them but they were already down for the count. He stood straight.

"Think you can make an opening?" Cap said.

"That or shoot down the barrel. They wouldn't see it coming."

"We wouldn't be able to contain the damage. We're trying to _limit_ collateral," Romanoff emphasized the last part.

Tony suddenly became aware of the banging and explosions creating static over the feed, like Thor and Clint had their own makeshift workshop. An explosion blossomed on the left side, one of Clint’s arrows. The tiny dot that was Thor swung this way and that at soldiers closing in, giving Clint tons of free shots at distant guys and the tank itself.

Hit everything until something gives. Classic.

“I believe you are falling behind, my friend!” Thor laughed. “Do try and keep up!”

“Nah man, you’re counting skills are inferior.” Barton, what was it, cackled? before another explosion echoed, enveloping the back of the tank in a raging inferno.

 “I think Barton may need to visit a therapist,” Romanoff mused.

“Not again…” Agent then lowered his communicator. Possibly giving orders to his lackeys.  

"Found an opening." Cap drove his shield into the crevice of a door hatch and began to pry it open. Way too slow for Tony’s taste.

"Stand back." Cap stumbled back as Tony sliced clean through the hatch. And the rear end of the tank in a diagonal sweep before the cartridge popped out.  

"So much for ringing the doorbell." Cap said with slack shoulders.

"A joke on the job? That's my territory."

"Mine too!" Clint chirped.

"Barton, your flavor is more sarcastic."

Their tank slowed as the slice fell away, revealing the inner workings. A multi-tiered fortress filled to the brim with HYDRA soldiers who were losing their shit... Like taking a bat to a hornet’s nest.

At this rate though they were going to collide with the buildings, and a few were already damaged thanks to all the ice.

"Brb Cap. You got these guys?"

"B-R-What?"

"Internet lingo, just, never mind-- What are you doing?"

Cap’s arm was outstretched, gaze locked onto the soldiers down below. “Give me a hand?”  

Tony didn’t budge at first. Took a second to process. Gloves, armor, hardly physical contact. Steve glanced over as Tony snatched his hand and shot downward when the soldiers opened fire. With his free hand Tony blasted them backward with a massive sonic wave before hurling Cap forward. A gift really, in spangled wrapping.

Tony then soared up and around the tank while Cap lived up to his battering ram potential.   

“Cap, shield!” Romanoff ordered.

The Quinjet soared by and showered the tank with ammo and the ricochet told Tony that Cap blocked.

Romanoff couldn’t have come at a better time.

Tony reached the tank’s tracks and kept the repulsors low before going to work. Apply too much heat and the tracks would burn, just enough and the substance would melt. Slowly but surely the track melted to the road in a sticky, gooey mess. The shrieking of protesting gears against the momentum brought the remaining structure forward, the missing sectioning aiding in its imbalance.

The slowest, most anticlimactic fall.

Men dropped from their floors, losing their footing from the angle and to dodge the incoming blasts Tony used to sweep the floors.

He caught Cap fighting some guys before they all lurched forward. Cap was smart enough to grab the railing while the other guys fell a _long_ way down.

Steve looked up at him and he somehow knew what Tony was thinking. Again. "You tripped the whole tank up!?"  he said, alarmed.

"Had to keep it from kamikazing. And it's taking care of its own men." Tony swooped down and snatched Cap's outstretched hand like magnets locking together. Now if only the armor was gone.  

And it worked, the tank's barrel just kissing the edge of the Paramount Building in a final stop.

"See, it was fool proof. Tony proof, hah, but--"

Cap’s grip suddenly slackened and Tony faltered in midair.

"--Cap, Cappy?"

Steve’s body was slack, dangling along for the ride.

Tony’s stomach lurched worse than any upchuck and he immediately landed on top one of the Broadway signs. Steve fell against him, lifeless, and Tony lifted the faceplate, maybe it was malfunctioning. No, Cap was unconscious and Tony’s hands flurried along his body, checking for any wounds, rips in the armor, missing body parts? Blows of head trauma, factures, concussions - did he already check for that? - burns, bleeding, any drops of blood. Tony's mind raced through the possibilities, turning them over and over and if it wasn't for Clint and Thor yelling over the speaker Tony wouldn't have realized he was word vomiting.

Steve wasn't moving. Was he breathing?

Tony rested a hand on his cheek, but for what, he was incased in armor--

"It appears that Captain Rogers's core temperature is 91.4 degrees Fahrenheit," JARVIS read for him.

Tony was about to speak when Steve's body tightened back up.

"W-- Iron Man?" he murmured, voice husky.  He cleared throat and stood, or tried to. He stumbled and held onto Tony for support.

 _"The fuck was that?"_ Tony spat, eyes narrowing as he searched Cap for the answer. But there none, just Cap blinking back exhaustion from those piercing blue eyes.

"Was, you mean… I zoned out for a moment, I'm sorry--"

“You’re lying Cap, Super Soldiers shouldn’t lie.”

“I’m not lying, I’m fine,” Cap said, stronger this time. He pushed away from Tony, standing on his own.

 _"Guys!”_ Clint cut through the feed.  “What the hell is going on over there?"

They turned simultaneously as Clint and Thor rode up, Clint riding on the God of Rock’s back and if Tony’s reactor wasn’t malfunctioning he would've laughed.

“What the _fuck_ are y’all going on about over there?” Fury’s voice boomed through their ears, trumping them all.

 

* * *

 

 

What followed was round after round of questions between reporting to Grand Master Fury, then Agent’s questionable debriefing, and then the teammates trying to figure out what the hell happened with Tony and the “glorious” Captain.

And Tony still didn't know a damn thing.

All he did was take out the bad guys. Why was S.H.I.E.L.D. asking him? They film everything and anything suspicious, a HYDRA invasion should’ve sent them dry humping their footage. Or hell, Tony could send them his own recording of it. He could outfit every agent with their own copy just so he’d be done with sitting there hour after hour being poked and prodded with figurative cattle prods, so they could see for themselves that for once Tony Stark wasn’t the misunderstood genius.

This was boring, he was frustrated, he wanted coffee and that's just what he did, he got up and walked out in the middle of some mother of some agent testifying their recollection. Not really, but it may as well of been.

He caught Captain Frikken America’s glare directed at the table, hand in a fist. Well guess what buddy, Tony was pissed too.  

The coffee in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s cafeteria tasted like lukewarm motor oil. He spat it out on the counter and threw the mug in the garbage. Coffee that nasty can't be scrubbed out of a cup.

"Hey Stark." And now Barton was strutting his stuff his way, or at least Tony wished he was. Better that than seeing the scowl on his face. "Do your exits have to be as dramatic as your entrances?"

"Look, I know we're both contestants for awesome one-liners, but let's put that award on hold for now. Or a while. Just don't talk." Tony just needed a moment to think.

"Can't do that Stark. The tension was worse than Russian Roulette in there."

“Hah, I get it,” Tony said, tone dry. And some of the tension was still bottled up inside.  But Tony would be damned before he allowed it to bust him open. “Let me guess, you and Romanoff played a few rounds?"

"More or less..." Barton eyed Tony's hands.

He just realized how intensely he was tapping a pen against his palm. It was Agent's pen, he took it on accident. He shoved the pen into Barton's hands, only to begin tapping his fingers against his arms.

"What happened between you and Rogers in there?" Clint asked.

"What happened? You want to know what happened? The guy is a damn liar," Tony growled. Okay maybe he was damned. "He's lying through his teeth and the flag on his barrel chest deters people from thinking he has a lying bone in his body. Says I was overreacting!"

"Um... Aren't you?"

"You weren't there!" Stray agents were starting to watch and Tony lifted his repulsor clad hand at them since his arm was still suited up. They scattered in seconds. "He's playing it off, that he's not injured, which isn't full on lying but he's not full on telling the truth either. Making me look like an idiot."

"But Stark…” Clint’s voice was low, quiet.  Tony hated it, like he was a child needing consoling. “He didn't have any injuries. No blood, nothing out of place, the guy looks healthy."

"Right, okay." The side of Tony's mouth twitched.

He turned and Clint began, “I’m just saying that--”

"No I get it. Now if you are done reprimanding me, I'd like to get some coffee. Triple shot, and preferably not shit flavored."

"Why the hell does it bother you so much?" Tony heard the scowl in Barton’s voice and then footsteps. Good, Tony was tired of talking.  

But he also wasn't done dealing damage.

He went to speak but the words never left his mouth. Maybe because he didn't have a response. It perplexed him, and he backtracked to the question. It was something he didn't have an answer to, witty or not.

Maybe because he and Cap had finally hit it off in his lab, an icebreaker, something Tony didn't know how to do but when the moment rose he jumped on it. Maybe because even after the moment ended and they were the Avengers, they were actually working on the same brain length. Maybe because when something might of went wrong with Cap, Tony felt panic grip him like a vice...

And maybe having all of that explode in his face with that argument was just too painful to take with without the armor up.

"I don't know," he finally said, but Clint was already gone.

 

* * *

 

 

Tony left before he could break anything else. It was nothing he was depressed over, it was just a known fact that he was prone to breaking things. Not so much now since everything in his life seemed stable for once. A good life, relatively good health, a few good friends, and a good team of superheroes, minus the spandex. Who could ask for more?

But he needed to get out, the tunnel-like halls of S.H.I.E.L.D. were suffocating and he needed to collect himself. Like hell he could do that here. He put back on the suit and made a shot straight home--

Well almost. He stopped for Drive Thru.

Grease was soaking through the paper bag when he landed, and it made his mouth water. He made a mental note to invest in reactor magnetism that attracted artery fat, but for now, health be damned.

Once free of the suit and hugging his cheeseburgers - mechanical-stripping roof arms nearly stole the bag - he ran inside to find Pepper. Maybe she'd stomach one of these; on rare occasions like solstices or groundhog days she'd crave greasy goodness.

He didn’t need any of them, not Thor and Barton faking their concern, Romanoff and her scrutinizing stare, or Captain America, even if he was Steve Rogers.  He had his suits, his bots, and best of all he had Pepper. He was an Avenger only when something needed avenging, the end.

"Pepperrrrrrrr!" Tony drawled, "Pep! Join me in fine dining and breathing!" He shook the contents of his bag.

He found Pepper in the living room, sitting cross-legged on the designer rug Tony didn't have a say in, in a button up shirt and shorts. Whenever deep in paperwork she forgot about the couch right behind her, everything nearly organized along the coffee table. But right now the table was bare except for a martini glass on a coaster, and she jumped at the sound of Tony's footsteps.

"What? I'm sorry, when did you get back?" Tony swore that his arc reactor faltered at Pepper's bad attempt at a smile.

"Just now, didn't JARVIS alert you? He should of, that's why doorbells are obsolete. What are you drinking?" Or more of why was she drinking.

She took the class and gingerly stood up. "A martini, dry, with olives. A lot of olives."

"Like three olives?" It rolled out of his mouth as a statement, and the memory of her in that deep blue dress, hair in soft, flame like waves trailing down her back. It was the first time they nearly kissed, and that alone was the reason why she needed that drink.

"Actually..." Pepper grimaced. "Four olives."

"That is excessive. Borderline gluttony. Pep, you might have a problem."

"Tony..." Her tone was soft, pitying. "Could you promise to not overreact?"

"Depends on what it is. The company tanked? No big deal. Stocks are up? Let’s throw a party--"

"I wanted to talk about us."

Tony flinched like a personal stab to the chest. Numerous responses flooded his brain but it didn't know how to interpret. It was out of his hands. But he knew by just the way Pepper was now looking at him that this was unavoidable.

Done, signed, copied and locked away.

"No promises." His tone was flat. "But can we cut the cliché monologue of 'It's not you, it's me,' and straight to what went wrong, exactly?"

"I don't think it was ever right."

 _Ow_. Well something registered on Tony's face since a hand went to Pepper's mouth.

"And Fury thinks Romanoff is the most lethal.” Tony smirked. “You should join the Avengers sometime. We could use that super harsh power of yours. Just promise no friendly fire, okay?"

"Tony--"

"So what was this-" Tony gestured between them- "the entire time? One big pity party? Did I wear you down enough that you finally agreed--?"

"I never blamed you specifically."

"You didn't have to, it was all in the fine print."

"Tony, will you listen for just a moment?" Tony clamped his mouth shut and Pepper regained her composure. Already he was wearing her down, it must have been a record. "Whether you see it or not, we're alike in a lot of ways, and although I don't see it as a bad thing, I don't think we're compatible above being really stubborn, but good friends--"

"I can change," Tony blurted out. "I get it. We're like magnets with the same charge. But I can reverse my polarity, just give me some time, that I can promise--"

"It doesn't work that way--"

Tony scoffed. "Please, I've done those experiments in diapers. I need a different charge, and we'll attract just fine. Like coffee and donuts. Or scotch and donuts. Or metal and blowtorches--"

"The last two don’t go together," Pepper said, cracking the smallest smile.

He could hold into that. That smile, the slight quirk of her eyebrow, the warmth of her beside him and the freckles on her shoulders. The constant flame that he could rely on, burning bright when even she doubted herself at times. But Tony saw it, he knew she’d be there for him, she was always there for him even when she wanted to leave.

She wanted to leave often, but he always managed to turn her back around. Just coax the flame one more time.  

Tony grinned and took her by the shoulders, bunching up the cloth between his fingers. "But that's the beauty of it, they do work together. It's just a matter of perspective. Just try it a few times.”

“Tony, it’s been months.”

“Give it some more time, you’ll warm up to it. I swear i’m malleable, I can adjust accordingly--"

The humor drained out of Pepper's face, leaving an empty smile that made him panic. He made a wrong turn.  “Just a theoretical timeframe Pep, weeks? It can be fixed, I can be--”

“Oh, Tony…” she murmured, again with the pitying.

No, he was losing her. He scrambled for words but the only thing that left was a strange choking noise.

"I don't want you to change." Her voice cracked, eyes bright and shining with what, tears? Tony broke her...?

"Then what do you want?" he murmured, hands slackening. Was he holding on too tight?  

She didn't respond right away, looking ready to fall apart in his arms. But she didn't, at least not right away. She was pale, mouth quivering and Tony knew that he was the one that broke her flawless exterior.

"There's someone out there for you Tony. I just want you to be happy."

No, he was holding onto something that was already broken.

Pepper pulled from his grasp and walked away, and though her back was turned she was wiping her face with her sleeve.

Tony never had a chance to negotiate, because Pepper was gone within the hour. How long had she planned this? Her things were packed and from what JARVIS was saying, she was relocating to the Malibu mansion. She was nice enough to even wash her glass, and like that she was gone. Like she never lived there to begin with.

Finally after what seemed like ages, Tony forced himself to move.  Something gurgled under his shoe and it took him a second to process that he stepped on his food bag. He stared at it blankly before retreating to the lab. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright I lied, but in a good way! This chapter was fairly easy to edit compared to the others.
> 
> Got kinda emotional, huh? Well I assure you it's only going to get worse. :) 
> 
> I also recently got a Tumblr account, so feel free to follow me and my writing escapades! I'm new to the whole blogging thing (waves a stick at Cap), but I hope you find it interesting enough: ellie-bronte.tumblr.com 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	5. The Infinite Blue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to apologize to all of you for falling behind on updates. Really I haven't forgotten about the fanfic; in fact I've had it all drafted out the moment I first published Chapter 1.  
> However, college has me in a vice and I just haven't had time to edit chapter 6. My goal is to get it out this coming Sunday since my most intense final is Wednesday. It will be out I promise, and thanks for being so patient with me.

It was essential that the Avengers took down HYDRA before any more civilians could get hurt, but the days were passing and so far no updates. S.H.I.E.L.D. was doing its best to track HYDRA but there was nothing, not a single lead to follow. The last two assaults were beginning to look like just straightforward, mindless attacks on Manhattan. However, the information they did have unnerved Steve.

Three hours before the attack there were numerous reports of civilians in the area leaving wherever they happened to be at the time - be a job, lunch, traveling - to gather for the attack. The soldiers in black gear they fought that day weren't the standard six foot guys Cap fought back in World War II, but varying in age, height, and sex. Agent Coulson returned with reports on every single captured or incapacitated person and nothing pointed to any suspicious activity leading to the attack.

"It's like HYDRA is picking these people off the street hours before," Directory Fury explained. "The president of the United States of America could be HYDRA and we wouldn't even know it."

The damage to Time Square wasn't too bad, but Steve still suggested that the Avengers lend a hand in cleanup. It was a little less than a week to Christmas after all and an attack shouldn’t stop the city from enjoying the holidays. Director Fury agreed that it would be great for PR and assigned Agent Coulson to oversee the operation. An extra pair of hands was always nice, and Phil looked content being there or at least Steve guessed so - Phil was near unreadable. Clint was a little happier, Natasha didn't seem to mind, and Thor was eager to help.

Tony refused to leave his lab.

Steve had every intent on apologizing to Tony the moment he was back in the Tower. He knew Tony meant well, that he was just looking out for Steve, but he pointed out something that Steve didn’t want to admit. He didn't remember blacking out, and God he hoped that Tony had overreacted because with HYDRA out there, Steve couldn't afford to have something be wrong with him, even if he didn't quite know what it was.

But when the Avengers were finally back in the Tower, JARVIS had informed them that Miss Potts had transferred to the Malibu mansion and that she hoped to see them soon.

“I do not understand,” Thor had said. “I thought my organizational skills marvelous! Her shoes were ordered by color, height, and occasion. Where have I erred?”

“No worries big guy,” Clint patted Thor on the back. “It’s probably not you. Bet it’s just relationship drama.”

 Steve didn't know what to think until he went to the lab. JARVIS denied him access, but through the glass doors Steve could see Tony, his back turned to the entrance. He wasn't moving much, just his head bowed over the counter of gadgets. He hadn’t moved a single one in the minute Steve stood there.  

Clint later on retracted his joke.

It was kind of funny that no one really knew how to handle the situation. Clint and Natasha kept to themselves. Thor attempted to console Tony, but he couldn’t get past the door. Eventually, it was left alone.

Steve left food outside the door periodically, not knowing much else he could do. But he did know one thing even if he was a stranger to relationships, that when a loved one was gone the person just wanted to be alone.

But Steve really did miss talking to him. Part of him wondered, if that didn't sound too self-centered, if he somehow had a hand in the breakup.

 

* * *

 

"Friend Steven!" Steve jumped at the boom of Thor's voice. He landed yards away from where Steve was sweeping one of the shop fronts. "You appear troubled. What ails you?"

"Hm?" 

"You were immobile for quite some time."

"Oh, just, got lost in a train of thought."

"Then unboard your figurative locomotive and celebrate with me!" Thor clapped a hand on Steve's shoulder. "The lovely Jane Foster is traveling to this location as we speak. We have been apart for far too long and my heart yearns to be beside her once more."

Just the way Thor's eyes lit up told Steve that she was something special. He smiled and said, "That's good news! Are you gonna take her on a date?"

Thor furrowed his brow. "I do not understand. Yes, today is that day but what are you suggesting I do with her?"

"What? Erm..." Steve was so used to Thor that he forgot that he wasn't from around here. "I mean take her somewhere special. Dinner and then dancing maybe? Or maybe a movie?"

"Does the lovely Jane Foster enjoy dancing and move-ees?"

"Well, I've never met her but I just figured you were going to do something special for her since you haven't seen her in a while."

"You are right, Good Captain!" Thor slammed a hand on Steve's back and he staggered. "The lovely Jane Foster deserves no less! Tell me, where should we dine? What are these move-ees? Are they mobile? What are the customary Midgardian dances?"

"Oh, well for dancing you're probably better off asking Natasha, didn't know how even in my own time. Movies are moving pictures projected on a screen that tell a story, kinda like the one you see at Tony's but there are theaters, where the public gathers to watch them. But I guess you could see them at home now. As for eating, well, you can take her here." Finally, something Steve could actually help Thor with. "I came here all the time back when I had my own place. The food is good and the wait staff is nice. The girl who usually serves me is Beth, she's really nice. I wonder what time she's coming in."

"She won't be in today, unfortunately." Another employee happened to overhear them, a smaller woman chewing bubblegum. "She's on medical leave."

Steve went rigid. "What happened?" he turned to face the employee.

"Well she left before her shift was over, no explanation, just said she had to leave and that was it. In the middle of our lunch shift too. Then the manager gets a call the next day that she's in the hospital with broken bones." The waitress blew a bubble before adding, "Heard she might be in trouble with the cops. Was there something you needed, Steve?"

"N-no, I just... I finished sweeping."

He really hadn’t and he felt bad for lying, but news like that was a blow to the head.

Beth was part of HYDRA? That just didn't make sense. Or it didn't make sense to him. She knew who he was after the Battle of Manhattan and unless she was an incredible actress, how could she talk to him like they weren't on opposite sides of the battlefield?

She wasn't a soldier, none of these HYDRA goons were. They were the faces of regular people: mothers, fathers, hard workers, young adults, and the middle aged. None of this was adding up!

"Friend Steven." Thor had followed him. He placed a hand on his shoulder Steve stopped walking. "I am sorry for your misfortune."

Steve said nothing. He looked on ahead, to where the agents were straightening out the entrance to one of the buildings, piling up the rubble to have it picked up later. From the looks of it, Natasha and Phil were cleaning, and when their backs were turned, Clint kicked the pile over.

Phil turned with concrete in his arms and stared at the pile before casually walking over to Clint, and dropping the block on Clint's foot. Steve heard the archer’s yell among the underlying noise pollution, and if he was a betting man, he'd wager Natasha had laughed.

Thor circled around so that he faced Steve, his hand still firm.

"You seem exhausted," Thor said.

Steve flinched but didn't respond to that. "Can I ask you something?"

"I will answer as well as I can."

"No one can touch the Tesseract directly, right?"

"Except for very powerful beings such as the Allfather, correct."

"What happens if a human touches it directly?" Although Steve's eyes were on Thor he was looking past him, straight into the broken window of the Valkyrie.

"I am told it is most unpleasant," Thor said. "For a Midgardian to grasp the Tesseract means certain death, for they cannot command its raw power. They are broken down to their core and scattered across the nine realms in fragments impossible to detect with the naked eye."

"And there is no way they can come back, none at all?"

Thor nodded. "They are gone in the true sense of the word."

"Good." Not that Steve wished that kind of pain on anyone, but the knots in his stomach felt a little looser, knowing something could stay definite.

He glanced back over at the agents and saw someone else had joined them, a pretty young lady with beige skin and straight, chestnut hair. Phil pointed in their direction, and the moment her eyes fell on them they brightened significantly.

"Thor." Steve turned him around and Thor cried out, not a battle cry but one of happiness.

Thor charged forward, everything else in the world falling away as he swooped the girl, who Steve guessed was Jane, into a massive hug. The both of laughed like they were on their honey moon. The agents stood on the sidelines, their friendship indicated by how close they stood by each other.

Steve smiled and joined the rest of his team, ignoring the cool wind prickling his skin.

 

* * *

 

 

"Tony?" Steve stood outside the lab, the same way he did every day: paper bag in the left hand, knocking with the right, brow slightly furrowed.

No one was home tonight. Thor asked Jane out to the movies after all, followed by dinner and then dancing. She was a little shy but nice. She got a kick out of Thor’s suggestions. Jane and Thor left, Jane’s tiny frame leading the towering but jolly God of Thunder down the street. Clint and Phil came home before they decided to go right back out. Apparently Phil’s been craving gelato lately, and when Clint mentioned some Italian place the two were gone in under the hour. And Natasha, well after explaining to Steve what gelato was, said she had plans this evening as well. Steve asked what her plans were. She smirked at him before striding off - he had no idea what that meant.

Anyway, Steve didn't want to feed Tony any more cheeseburgers. If the guy was going to lock himself away from sunlight for days, the least he could do was eat healthy. So after talking with JARVIS, Steve bought from this neo-Chinese place. Hopefully Tony would like it.

He tried to open the door and as usual it was locked. Steve sighed and contemplated leaving the food there once again, but part of him wondered if he should try to speak to Tony. Eight days seemed to be pushing it, but Steve wasn’t sure if he was being insensitive. 

Then JARVIS spoke, tone surprisingly concerned. "It appears that Master Stark is unconscious."

"What?" Steve pressed against the glass, trying to find any sign of movement. One of the mechanical arms was poking at something behind a table. From what Steve could see it was a hand.

His heart began to race and while JARVIS was saying something about overriding codes Steve shattered the glass with his fist.

There was a yell and Tony was bolt upright, eyes wild.

"Tony are you okay--"

"Where the hell is the fire?!"

"Fire? No, no you were unconscious--"

Apparently “fire” was the code word because the AI nearby set off the fire extinguisher. Steve helped Tony away while the engineer yelled and jabbed his finger at the AI. "Dammit DUMMY, you useless metal coatrack! Enough with the extinguisher--"

"Are you hurt?" Steve set the bag on the counter and stared at Tony. For a week in his lab he didn't look too bad, except for the crazy hair, blood shot eyes, and liquor on his breath.

"Hurt? Cap, you underestimate me. It's only been 72 hours. I go on sleep mode only for...Let’s see one, two," Tony counted with his fingers.

"Tony it's been about a week." Steve helped him down on the couch, still feeling jittery. They'd have to clean up all the foam, but the foam looked like the least of their problems. The whole place was a mess, er, messier than usual.

"Yeah, this was my second shut down. Calm down Cappy. Not like I'd lie to you about my health or anything."

Steve sighed. "I deserved that one."

"Deserve what? Oh, that whole discrediting me in front of everyone thing." Tony waved a careless hand. "I'm over that."

"Either way, I wanted to apologize." Steve walked off and picked back up the food. "You were just looking out for me, and I shouldn't have snapped the way I did." He set the food down on Tony's lap.

"And you come bearing gifts. Aw, you shouldn't have. Sit with me."

Tony rummaged through the bags and blinked at the boxes he pulled out. "These aren't cheeseburgers."

"Nope." Steve took a seat. "If you're usually pulling work shifts like this, you need to eat better."

"But- What?" He stared at the stir fry. "No cheese? No grease or fat? Blasphemy."

"There's soy sauce."

"Soy." Tony grumbled right when his stomach growled.

"Tony, you need to eat. Please?"

Steve didn't know what did it, but after a few seconds of staring, Tony snapped his wooden chopsticks apart and began to eat. Now that the adrenaline passed, Tony was quiet, except for the occasional mumble of numbers or random words.

"Are you feeling better?" Steve asked after a bit.

“It’d taste better with bacon. Or barbeque sauce.”

“I meant since you and Pepper… um…”

Tony flinched. Steve mentally scolded himself. “Never mind,” Steve said right when Tony spoke.

“I’m sorry, what’d you say?”

“Nothing,” Tony quickly said. “It’s better if I didn’t.”

“Are you sure?” Steve turned toward him. He had the urge to touch Tony’s shoulder, but that might be too suggestive. He was consoling Tony, not supposedly making a move. “If there’s anything you want to say, I’m all ears.”

Tony shifted his food around in the box. “I’m sober. Forgot the feeling, is um, all.”

"You've been drinking the pain away."

"If I say yes can we skip the lecture?"

"No, no it’s fine.” Tony didn’t say anything. Steve laced his fingers together.  “I mean that it must be nice."

Now Tony was staring at him, a white rice grain held in his chopsticks. “Captain America condones binge drinking?”

Steve shrugged a shoulder. "I tried to do it, back when I..." The pain was there but dulled down, like a wound that hadn’t healed properly. "After my friend Bucky--"

"Was killed in action. My bad," Tony blurted out. "I read on it. Howard, connections, yeah."

Steve nodded. His voice was steady enough to continue the conversation. "But it didn’t work that well, er, at all. I can't get drunk. A side effect of the serum."

"Four times the average rate, right? Then drink four times the amount of alcohol."

"That's kinda excessive, don't you think?"

"Nonsense, I mean look at me! Turned out just fine." Silence. "You're right, that was in bad taste."

And Steve chuckled.

Tony's mouth did some sort of spasm thing. "So you laugh at my failures. Arrogance is unbecoming," he said after stuffing his mouth full of food.

"That hasn't stopped you yet, Stark."

"Ow. You enter my domain, fling rabbit food at me and deny my awesome. If I had a white glove I'd slap you with it."

Steve snorted and clapped a hand over his nose and mouth. That's bad manners in front of a pretty dame-- But he wasn't with one of those. Just Tony Stark, so why was he trying to impress him? Acting as if they were on a date or something. He blushed at the thought.

Tony watched him with an eyebrow quirked. "Is it hot in here? Dehydration is a thing."

"No I'm fine."

Steve focused his stare on the floor, not trusting himself to steal another glance because he might hold it for too long. Tony cracked open his fortune cookie, food containers stacked beside his leg. Steve jumped at the high little laugh that left Tony’s lips before suddenly turning toward Steve, eyes narrowed.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Tony left his seat, leaving the fortune in his place. 

"What were you working on for so long, anyway?"

"Oh, that," Tony said. "S.H.I.E.L.D. is really slacking on the job. A disappointment really, I wouldn't feel safe knowing their colossal failure."

"What do you mean?" Steve snuck a peek at the little slip of paper. _“Try it, you might like it.”_ He blushed, unsure as to how exactly that was a fortune.“They're not taking HYDRA seriously?" 

"Maybe, I don't know.” Tony set his laptop on top one of the overcrowded countertops. “What I do know is the glaring correlation between radio waves and the HYDRA raid. At first I assumed underground cult, channeling messages through websites or possessed blogs, because those soldiers were so varied in traits, jobs, locations, but equally accessible. They were flash mob-esque, so random that there had to be some message delivered previously so everyone would know where to meet. So I searched for duplicate emails or encrypted messages across the Internet database, really it’s not hard but nothing was traceable. With me so far?"

"I... Think so," Steve said.

"So since there wasn't a trail to follow, it had to be something like word of mouth, some sort of verbal cue. Something local but accessible to everyone, and then that primitive device came to mind, radio. Radio waves, they're weak and unassuming, and so JARVIS tapped into the local radio and found alongside the barf people call music these days, frequencies that can't be consciously detected by the brain but are intercepted. Anyone listening to the radio hours before the attack was subliminally messaged."

"But-" Even with the Super Serum, Tony's brain still ran laps around Steve. "If the soldiers weren't consciously aware of these signals, why would the signals matter?"

"And that is my point." Tony turned his laptop around. "Cap, we are dealing with good old-fashioned mind control. A subliminal LSD, people working like highly trained soldiers when they're garbage men and store clerks and dog trainers. Anyone with a radio is susceptible to HYDRA's will."

Terror seized Steve like a vice. “Are you _sure_ about this?”

“As in if I’m joking? That’s unconventional, even for my brand of humor,” Tony said, tone flat.

His stomach felt hollow, the contents threatening to scorch his system on the way out.

This entire time the Avengers haven’t been fighting HYDRA, but the very civilians they were trying to protect. All those people that they took out or captured, none of them knew what they were doing, unable to control their actions. Unable to comprehend the situation- Or what if they were? What if they were aware of everything that was happening around them but unable to stop it, unable to call for help…? Right now, Beth and so many others were sitting in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s custody, injured or worse, being accused for crimes they had no control over.

If Steve could ever say he felt raw hate, it would be at this moment. 

He stood up, exercising every ounce of control to keep from full on yelling. "And these radio waves, can you track the source?"

"One step ahead of you. JARVIS was on that while I was recharging." Tony moved to another computer. "What have you got for me?"

"I completed the search, Sir. It appears that the radio waves are coming from a ship not too far off the coastline."

"Not too far from-- _How?!_ " Steve spat. "The coast guard, the National Guard, S.H.I.E.L.D., someone would have noticed something that close!"

"Unless someone gave it clearance." Tony took the words right out of his mouth.

 

* * *

 

Find out any information as to what HYDRA is planning, and take down that ship: those were the orders Captain America gave as they suited up. He was tired of sitting around waiting for another attack to stop, and clearing the plan with S.H.I.E.L.D. would take too much time as far as he was concerned. They needed to take the offensive and they needed to do it now, and at this rate he wasn't sure whether the Avengers could rely on S.H.I.E.L.D., according to Tony.

Of course Director Fury would have a lot of questions afterward as well as Agent Coulson, especially since his and Hawkeye's date was cut short.

Hawkeye sulked as he sat in the Quinjet, mumbling things about not finishing his meal. Widow flew the plane, the black dress she left the tower in hung over her seat. Thor had given Jane a goodbye kiss before joining them on the flight over. Jane headed back to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s base, and Cap filled Coulson in on as much as he could without making accusations, because they didn’t know for sure what S.H.I.E.L.D.’s role in this was.

Already the jet was over water, New York a skyline of lights against the night's backdrop. Iron Man led the jet, Thor remaining on its right.

If not for the coordinates they might have flown right over the ship, it blending in with the dark waves.

"Looks kind of like the Helicarrier," Hawkeye said.

The layout wasn't as large but it really did look similar with its entrances and runways, except sleeker, making it more dynamic for underwater travel.  

"Which means they'll know this plane is unauthorized," Widow said.

"At least someone's keeping track," Iron Man commented. Cap almost agreed.

"Not for a while." Hawkeye released one of his arrows, the wind looking like it was guiding it to its target.

It landed on one of the ship’s sirens. All was quiet as Widow eased the plane onto the runway. There were no alarms. It would be a while before anyone noticed them onboard. 

"What is our strategy, Captain of Americas?" The ground cracked under Thor's feet when he landed.

"Information. Hawkeye, Widow, and I will infiltrate on different sectors. Take anything that looks important, any devices, documents--"

"Files that have 'My Evil Plan' in blood red on manila folders," Iron Man mumbled.

"I was getting to that," Cap turned to Iron Man. "Hack them, find somewhere to plug into the system and find anything you can. Thor, stay up top and create a racket. Get their attention. It'll give us more time to search."

"I shall!" Thor exclaimed before hurling Mjolnir at one of HYDRA's parked jets.

Iron Man dove into the control tower, Widow disappeared into the night and Hawkeye ran toward the other end of the ship.

HYDRA soldiers were already filing out, all a formidable height and build.

“I’m not detecting malicious signals, go crazy on these guys,” Iron Man said over their line. 

Cap could breathe easy as he clocked one right in the jaw on his way down, sending the row tumbling backward on the stairs. He leapt over them before taking off in one of the tunnels.

Except for the darker, metallic look to the halls they were still small and rounded, with bluish-white lights hanging overhead. It was nostalgic, rounding these corners and propelling his shield at enemy soldiers. He caught it as he made sure the guys were incapacitated before continuing on.

A chill crept up his spine, his breath entering the air in white wisps.

"Anyone else wish they brought a parka?" The communicator in his ear sprung to life, Hawkeye breaking the silence.

"Deserted on the east end. Budapest was colder than this, Hawkeye."

“Not fair Nat, NOTHING is colder than Budapest."

"So you guys ever going to enlighten us on your little excursion there?" Iron Man said.

"Guys, focus." Cap rounded another corner. The halls were deserted. "How much longer until the alarms turn on?"

"Two minutes and thirty three seconds ago, if the guys were conscious to sound it," Iron Man replied. "Nothing is on these lousy computers."

There was a sharp bang followed by something hitting the floor. "Found some files," Widow murmured.

Cap shielded himself at the sound of bullets whirling through the tunnels. More soldiers with machine guns. He took the most populated route but it was fine, he could handle it. He shot forward like a battering ram as he rushed into the fray, knocking men aside.

"From the sounds of it Thor was having fun; there was laughing and echoes of blows from a blunt object on his end. Cap had to lower Thor's microphone to hear Widow speak.

"--Hand written German, hardly legible--"

He narrowly avoided a knife that spun for his head. A bullet lodged in his calf. He hurled his shield at the soldier down the hall. _Make sure they’re incapacitated before progressing_ , Cap reminded himself.

"--replicate the Serum. Cap, you're all over this file--"

"What?" All the men were down. Cap bit back a gasp as yanked out the bullet. His breathing was heavy, he needed to regulate it. Exhaustion weighed him down as if he ran a few laps around the entire ship. But he couldn’t have gone that far, he didn’t understand-- 

"There's pictures, newspaper articles from the forties, blurred shots from video surveillance I suppose, all of you," Widow said. 

Something like a squeaky faucet echoed in the hall and Cap whirled around right as a jet of water shot for him. He raised his shield and skidded back from the force. Beads of water sprayed his face, cold air raising the hairs on the back of his neck as the water turned to ice on impact. Gritting his teeth he forced his shield at an angle, sending the pressure toward the wall and he rolled away, his arm sore from the hit. He was facing two more soldiers, standing side by side with pyrotechnic equipment on their backs. But instead of fire, the huge nozzles they controlled shot ice water.

Someone was speaking over the ear piece.

Cap shook his head, trying to focus. There was only one guy in front of him and another to his left, _when did he move?_

“…Detonate. I can turn it off… Footsteps… Should I?” It was like Hawkeye was moving in and out of range.

It echoed sluggishly under the sound of Cap's heart pounding in his ears. His breathing and everything fell out of focus entirely. Gunshots rattled the line. Widow was speaking but it was too far away.

Panic washed over him like a cold sweat and he staggered backward, brain telling him to move but nothing registered.

The soldiers were multiplying before his eyes. Something like a car suddenly slammed into him, sending him backward and agony shot through him on landing. A bad landing. A cold, painful collision.

Suddenly everything snapped into focus.

A second too late.

Ice had pinned Cap against the wall, too much weight on his shield for him to push forward. Ice was building on all sides, the cold relentless, entering and ripping at his lungs.

Seconds, he had seconds to escape before he was under completely.

Cap thrashed as much as he could but he was trapped, everything freezing up.  Panic. Fear. Help, he needed help. He called out for backup, alarms were going off aloud and in his head, and he couldn’t hear himself think as last bits of oxygen dissolved into the infinite blue.

 

-

 

-

 

-

 

-

 

-

 

There pair of bright, golden suns. The wind was in his hair, cool, not cold. Was he flying?

Cap’s brow furrowed and he shifted in someone’s grip. Panic hit his head like a small hammer and he forced himself awake. He was outside, the stars bright overhead, and something cold pressing against him.

It was the Iron Man suit.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.” Tony’s tone was smug, and to add insult to injury he was holding Cap bridal style.

“Put me down,” he ordered the best he could.

“Can’t do, unless you want to plummet into the ocean. Again.”

Cap bit back a growl, keeping as calm as he could until they landed. Then he forced himself out of Tony’s grasp.

“Wow. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“I had it handled.” Steve turned, brushing the frost off his suit.

It shocked him when Tony took him by the shoulder and forced him back around. “Is that what you call ‘handled’? Because what I saw was you plastered against the wall like a patriotic trophy.”

His fingers flexed against the strap of his shield, and Steve wished at that moment that it wasn’t Tony standing there but something he could hit instead. If Tony was trying to prove a point then he proved it, Steve wished he wasn’t so spot on. Was he smirking under the helmet? If he didn’t sound so smug Steve would think he was worried.

He stormed off, whether right or wrong he just didn’t want to talk.

They were on the shoreline, S.H.I.E.L.D. vehicles parked and agents cautioning off the area. Where were the rest of the Avengers?

In the distance Steve saw the flames, the only indication of the HYDRA ship being there. S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicopters hovered above the wreckage, but Steve doubted they would be able to salvage anything.

The ship had detonated itself. The Avengers failed to keep the place from going down.

A horrible mistake on his part.

Steve tore off his cowl, a headache coming on with full force.  

He passed Natasha, who was speaking to some agents. Her voice was low and controlled as always, but he caught her pause as he passed.

He didn’t glance over because he knew what that silence meant. Tony knew that he was in trouble, which meant that Steve’s calls were heard. Everyone else must have heard the call as well.

He quickened his pace, searching the beach until he found who he was looking for, arguing with the medics. Clint was on a stretcher, having his arm examined. Agent Coulson stood to his left.

“--Seriously can’t lay down and have you prod me at the same time, it’s just not comfortable--”

“Hawkeye.” The medics fell back when Steve reached them. “What happened? How bad is it?”

“He fell from his post and broke his arm,” Agent Coulson said. “Nothing too severe however, if he would have been more careful this could have been avoided.”

“Avoided? I’m plenty careful.” Clint waved his other arm. “It’s a minor fracture--” He hissed when Phil pressed his thumb on Clint’s forearm.

“You’ll have to take medical leave,” Phil murmured, writing on his clipboard.

Clint whined and kicked in the stretcher, and Steve suddenly noticed the smell of burnt leather. There were burn marks along Clint’s right, the tips of his hair singed. Just how close was he to being seriously injured? He must have been hit by one of the detonations.

“HYDRA always covers their tracks,” Steve said aloud. That was basic when it came to dealing with the organization. “I should have warned you guys, I don’t know why--”

“Cap, relax.” Steve glanced up and saw Clint watching him. “I’ve seen worse, no worries. I’ll be up and out in no time.”

“As long as you’ve received clearance.” Phil interjected.

 Phil turned to Steve after Clint was rolled away. “As for you Captain Rogers, how are you feeling?”

“I um, I’m fine. Kinda shaken up, but I’ll be okay.” He couldn’t meet Phil’s eyes.

A few seconds passed before Phil spoke again. “Well medical is on standby if you change your mind. Take care of yourself.”

Phil followed medical and Steve moved away, not wanting to hinder them any more.

Steve made it a few steps before he heard Thor’s voice blast through the crowd. The winds whipped at his cape as he rushed over, eyes wide.

“Good Captain, is all well? We were all concerned for your well-being!”

What was the use in lying? “No Thor, I’m not okay.”

“Then what is the matter?” Thor placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you injured? You look pale.”

“This is all my fault.” Steve glanced down at his shield. “We rushed into this without fully planning this out… We should have waited.”

“Even the best Asgardian warriors blunder on occasion.”

“And it costs you, right?” Steve snapped. “That’s not okay, not when there are others risking their lives on a bad call.”

Steve’s heartbeat was in his throat, and he realized he was shaking. He didn’t feel stable, and the way Thor was staring at him made him feel worse. They were all looking out for him, having his best interests in mind. And Steve repays them by throwing himself into harm’s way. A leader needed to have the team’s interest at heart, to put the team first and foremost. Not only did he fail at that, but he couldn’t even cover himself.

“I’ve been compromised,” Steve heard himself say. “I’m not fit to lead this team.”

“What?” Thor stepped back. “What ever do you mean, Good Captain? It was a mistake, nothing more. We are all out of harm’s way without any gains or losses. Do not punish yourself off of a neutral outcome.”

“But it could’ve been more than that.” The grip on his shield was so tight his fingers hurt, and still the metal refused to bend. “All of us could’ve died on that ship, and then where would the world be? We were the ones who found it, not S.H.I.E.L.D. Without us, Manhattan and then the world would fall, all because of a bad plan. I can’t,” Steve affirmed, stronger this time. “I can’t do that to you guys.”

Thor placed both hands on Steve’s shoulders now, shaking him as he spoke. “But without our captain we cannot face our enemy. We cannot do this without you!”

“Then you guys will need a replacement.” It was a cold that he couldn’t shake, the idea of taking out his entire team. It was too close to home, witnessing his best friend plummet to his death because of a bad move. Not them, not the group that gave him something to belong to. “I’m confident the team can appoint a new leader.”

“But Good Captain--”

“Please Thor, call me Steve.”

Steve’s mouth hurt when he smiled. He handed Thor his shield and walked away, leaving away yet another piece of himself in the past. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I understand that the Tesseract should transport people across realms, but for the sake of this story (and Steve's sanity) it kills any human who holds it for too long. 
> 
> I realized that by posting Chapter 4 early, the wait for Chapter 5 was longer than it should've been. Really sorry about that! 
> 
> Can you believe we're halfway through the story? Time really flies! Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I will be posting every Sunday from this point on unless said otherwise. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. The Pain of it All (Part 1)

Tony couldn't remember seeing anyone so uncomfortable in their own skin. Usually it doesn’t take much to keep someone content; a smile here, sarcastic remark there and everything was just dandy. But with Cap he didn’t have the slightest clue on what to do. In a case like this, Tony would retreat to the lab because awkward Tony was not a fun Tony to be around. But he couldn’t retreat to the lab when Cap was _in the lab_.

Oh, and Tony happened to be drawing blood from him.

He hated needles, any foreign substance that neared him without his consent drove him up a wall, but this was the only way to get a sufficient amount of blood from Cap. Cap didn't say anything. He wasn't even looking at him. He kept his focus on something else entirely - Tony guessed between one of the pictures on his wall and the hole he made in one of his small explosions - sitting there stock still, shoulders slumped like he was deflated, too small for Tony's lab. Like he was lost, like he didn't belong here.

"Okay I can't take the silence anymore, it’s driving me nuts. Take off your shirt."

It took a second but Cap’s brow did furrowed. Tony quickly raised the needle and pointed. "Blood, needle? I need a sample."

"Where are you drawing from?"

"Your arm."

Cap looked at his sleeves and Tony thought the same thing: Why take off his shirt when he could just roll up his sleeves?

"On second thought I'll keep quiet." He didn't trust himself to speak.

Steve nodded and looked away as Tony neared.  Was the guy pulling the dejected act on purpose? It radiated off of him in a frequency that Tony bet he could measure.

"But if you want to talk, by all means go ahead.” Awkward Tony was the worst Tony. “Say anything you want, like what new adventures you had today, anything exciting you saw on the news, do you watch the news? Or the newspaper, I don't know how you do it by the way. The print gives me cataracts--"

And Tony completely missed Cap's vein.

 

* * *

 

Take two. DUMMY had towels on standby.

"Are you sure you can do this?" Cappy eyed the syringe.   

"Course I can, are you doubting me? Don’t answer that."

Something sparked in those blue eyes. Amusement, nerves, indigestion? But it was an emotion nonetheless and Tony could hold onto that. Anything was better than indifference. Tony felt Cap’s eyes on him as he clasped the soldier’s forearm. Thick, just shy of golden, blonde hairs soft and fine. Some scandalous scrutiny right here.  But Tony recognized that cool touch that JARVIS mentioned before.  Maybe Tony should take his temperature.

Tony began to swab his skin. Cappy shifted in his seat. 

"But you are welcome to stimulate me-- Conversational of course." Tony wanted to punch himself in the face. "But I mean other forms are welcome too, whatever you're into really. You're not listening to this are you? Here, let me try a great start up piece. Simple, effective, and in most cases boring but it's all I got. So how about that weather?" Tony took another syringe, grasp tightening on his arm. "Wonderful weather this morning, isn't it?"

Steve did crack a wistful smile, was that an improvement? "Yes, but I always carry an umbrella."

Automatic. Rehearsed. At least Tony didn't miss the vein.

"No you don't, you're a bad liar Cap." When he had enough for JARVIS to process he withdrew the syringe.

"No, it's just something I... Never mind." Cap rolled his sleeve back down.

"Well that's a dick move. Now I’m curious."

"Really, it’s nothing."

"You're cryptic as hell, you know that?”

"Analyzation, complete,” JARVIS interjected.  “DNA reads as Steven G. Rogers, code name Captain America."

Models of Steve's DNA appeared before them, strands in a slow spiral, and stagnant diagrams that Tony didn't recognize thanks to the serum. How difficult would it be to make a diagnosis with that serum encrypting everything? But there was something else; the DNA's twirling was sluggish. The blue schematic was dim, blotched in places with white specs across the strand.

"Motor functions, metabolism and heart rate down 50%. Brain activity, down 30%. Current temperature reads 95 degrees Fahrenheit. Ailments suggest a mild to moderate hypothermia."

"Hypothermia? So you're cold?" Tony placed a hand on Cap's forehead, accidentally touching his hair. It was soft...  

Oh and his skin was clammy.

"That's not right." Steve's brow furrowed against Tony’s palm. "I spent a good deal of time in Europe’s colder regions, and I've never felt this bad. Well, since the serum at least."

"Bad? How bad? And for how long?" Tony covered Steve's eyes, feeling his eyelids flutter shut. "No lying this time, that's bad karma."

"I just didn't think it was serious. I um... It’s only been a... A month or, or a few."

"A few. Is that _all_?" Cap seemed fine except for those freak incidents.  Come to think of it his reaction times were slower, and the amount of sleep he got was maddening, but--

"Tony?"

"What."

"What are you checking?"

"Oh, my bad." Tony removed his hand from Steve's eyes. Awkward Tony was worst Tony. "Fuck it, I'm getting you some coffee, a triple shot Venti black, 120 degrees with two sugar packets, or twenty, you'll be bouncing off the walls. And a blanket, a fuzzy blanket, you'll suffocate in it. Wait here."

Tony ran out of his lab before Cap could protest. He was going to fix this, and Cap will be up and running in no time, a well-oiled machine that no one could believe broke down.

Tony mentally yelled at himself to not contemplate the length of Steve’s lashes as he fast walked into the kitchen-- where Clint and Romanoff stood by his coffee machine. Their voices were low, and the way their stares snapped over mimicked alert animals. Tony got the vibe that he stumbled into something that should be quarantined.

“‘Sup?" Maybe he should just order coffee.

Clint remained silent and scowling. It was the goodness of Romanoff's black heart that she spoke first. "We were just talking about you, Stark."

"Why wouldn't you be?" Tony peered past them and to his beloved machine, a potential casualty in this standoff. Nearing it would put him within their reach and that just wasn't an option. "My place, my appliances, my awesome? I don't blame you."

"And is it that the same air you had when you strutted out of Director Fury's office?"

"Damn straight. Now back away from the coffee maker."

Romanoff quirked an eyebrow. Tony crossed his arms.

Clint shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned against the counter. "There's not much to debrief when Director Fury isn't telling the whole story. Seems a little one sided."

Tony nearly threw up his arms and shouted _Did you just now figure it out?_ but Romanoff beat him to the response. Right, agent battle.

"The Director knows less than we do, Clint."

"What, 'cause his guys couldn't find a single boat? Or how the boat might’ve gotten clearance? I mean we are the only organization, other than any national government, who has that kind of power. How does that work?"

"I don't know," Romanoff said, quieter but just as deadly. "But we can't start suspecting our own numbers. That's just what any villain would revel in, Loki--"

"I know what Loki did," Clint snapped, his glare acidic. "I had a personal hand on 'turning' against S.H.I.E.L.D. You don’t need to remind me, that damn shrink ward reminded me every day until the HYDRA tip. Haven’t been on a mission since.”

“Because you can’t be trusted,” Tony mumbled, mulling the entire thing over. “Which means you’re no longer an asset to them.”

“You know that there was more than that,” Romanoff said, words clipped. “Phil already explained the risk of sending you on missions, when your forte is sniping. And the ward placement was just as much of a precautionary measure for you as for us.”

Clint laughed without any humor. “‘Cept no one’s had the balls to tell me that themselves, they shoved me in a corner and thought I’d disappear. The only good part with those months was being able to visit Phil while he was being rehabilitated. Our wards were right next to each other.” Clint’s hands suddenly balled up. “Which I happened to pass through and see him recovering, you know, after Fury told us he was dead--"

"Whoa, whoa." Tony raised his hands. "Whoa... What?"

"His heart rate was normal." Clint looked like he was ready to murder Natasha in cold blood. "He was unconscious, but alive. And Fury knew that. He claimed he'd been meaning to tell us, but I beat him to the punch. Why would Director Fury wait so long to notify us--"

"And what if Director Fury had ulterior motives that your meddling put a stop to. Clint, I don't know,” Natasha finally spoke. "Whether it was that or simply another bad call to wait and make sure Phil was fully stabilized, your guess is as good as mine."

Natasha took a deep breath, held it, and then released. She picked up her coffee cup in too tight of a grasp and added in a calmer tone, "I believe you asked him and he claimed the latter. I don’t know his methods, but if you stopped acting so unstable then you’d remember that physically, you were in no shape to enter the field until a week before the HYDRA assault. And it's those same methods that helped you and me when anyone else would have gunned us down in the streets, no questions asked."

The way Clint took his cup from the counter suggested that the fight left him. He was thinking, judging from the tight expression, thinking of what to say. Or maybe if he should say it. Finally, he muttered, “You weren’t there Natasha… You weren’t there.”

And he trudged out the room.

Something in Natasha’s glare softened, though Tony wondered if it was a trick of the light. She mumbled something in Russian, before her head turned to Tony in breakneck speed like she remembered he was there. Tony nearly shat a brick.

"Coffee. Cap... Cup? Hot." Dammit with the stammering.

Romanoff stepped aside, giving him enough breathing room for his machine. He began to fiddle with it when she said in a tone without any bite, "I suppose your reasons parallel Hawkeye's for not allowing Steve to stay with the Director's medical staff."

"Look I get that you’re Fury's number one fan. That’s awesome but I _really_ don't want to go there."

Because it really was the most uncomfortable debriefing he had the pain of sitting though since it felt like someone died.

"I have America's Icon waiting in my lab for scalding coffee and fuzzy blankets. This can wait."

Tony poured two spoonfuls of sugar and cream into the giant mug and stirred before tossing the spoon into the sink. He heard the clang of it hitting the floor on his way out.

 

* * *

 

Technically someone did die, in an artsy symbolic way. Cap kept his tone even when threw a wrench into the clockwork of the Universe, and resigned at the debriefing.

He started off by saying that Tony was right the entire time. Tony wanted to interject, say _No you righteous asshole, I wanted an apology, not a resignation!_ but for once, he was floored. For once he couldn’t generate a ramble long enough to fix what was happening, even against his will.

Watching this was so. damn. frustrating.

Steve went on with how he had become more of a liability than an asset, and how he compromised the safety of the entire team by ignoring his health.  He finished with stating his full confidence in the team to appoint a new leader, and with HYDRA down they had time to regroup. Despite Hawkeye trying to successfully argue about his eternal struggle against gravity, while his arm was in a sling. Thor was silent - Cap must’ve talked to him already - but he looked ready to flip the entire table and storm out.  And well Natasha was quiet too, but a grave kind of quiet. She was probably crying buckets.

“I have one more request however.” Steve’s gaze sharpened on Fury, some of that patriotic spirit returning for a momentary encore. “That you release the soldiers from the previous attacks. We have information that proves their innocence in HYDRA’s plans.”

“As soon as we obtain the evidence and can confirm it, then yes we will.” And Fury left it at that. He didn’t even blink, which shouldn’t take that much energy since it’s just one eye, but the guy wasn’t ruffled by this news.

"You'll be back on the field in no time," Fury added, as comforting as hugging a cactus. "We'll have our medical field take a look at you--"

And at that moment Tony’s mind kick started back to life. "Nope."

All eyes rounded onto him.

"Is there a _problem_ , Stark?" Fury asked, the tone of his voice just daring Tony to challenge him.

"You bet there is. He's an Avenger, not one of your lackeys. Partial offense-" aside to Clint and Romanoff. "But no one wants to stay in a place like this. Makes a guy want to curl up and die on himself."

Fury's eye narrowed. "We have the best medical staff here, and last time I checked your forte was bots."

"And we have the best medical guy who can beat your staff into the pavement. Literally, and in dime store pants." Tony crossed his arms.

"Ah, the Gentle Giant! I have yet to see him again!" Thor said.

"Yep, Banner makes house calls. He’ll be here in no time. On top of that, Thor is magic and science's love child, and just for kicks let’s throw Jane in here too.”

Before anyone else could protest, Tony took Steve by the arm and led him out. Judging by the lack of protest, Cap was happy to be out of there too.

"Tony you are so irresponsible," Steve said once the doors shut behind them.

"I didn't hear you protesting. Anyways, you're a regular guy now. You don't need your briefs examined anyway."

Steve didn’t respond at first, which meant that he was thinking. Was he going to thank him? Tell him that he loved staying at the tower, maybe because a particular superhero - first word Iron - lived there too?  

“I just hope Beth is okay. I couldn’t imagine what she and the others are going through.”

Ow.

“Yeah seriously, it’s a damn shame,” Tony bullshited. And then came the silence, which teased his next question out of him. “So… this Beth, she’s… female.”

“Yeah.”

“Occupation?”

“She’s a waitress,” Steve slowly said.

“Do you uh… Does she, tickle you pink?” Tickle you-- what the **fuck** , Tony.

Even Steve had to pause for that one, like Tony really attempted a 40s euphuism. Was that even 40’s?

“I don’t understand--”

“Dating.”

“O-oh. No, she’s just a good friend. Why do you--”

“Time to get our science on.”

Because science be damned before Tony allowed Steve to be so frikken distraught with that furrowed brow and eyes that could melt iron, be stuck behind white walls while the clammy hands of vampiric S.H.I.E.L.D. doctors poked and prodded at him.

Literally, he took this into his own hands.

 

* * *

 

This was one of the more awkward coffee trips he ever made, but it was out of Hell’s kitchen and into... Well Tony wasn't sure what to call it. He reentered the lab to find Jane standing there awkwardly as Thor engulfed Steve in a massive hug from behind.

"--In the colder regions it is crucial to keep the head, ears, hands and feet warm at all times for much body heat is lost there.” Did Tony mention that Thor was massaging Cap’s hand? “We shall keep you from losing vital heat, Good Captain!"

"T-thanks Thor but I think I'm fine--"

"Nonsense! I have been told I have skilled fingers. I shall work up toward your shapely shoulders."

"Tony!" Steve pulled his hand away a little too quickly. "Did you bring the coffee? Also Jane is ready to work."

Jane nodded, trying and failing to wipe that school girl grin off her face. "I put my stuff in one of the spare rooms. Your lab is remarkable--"

“Wow you’re short.”

“…I’m sorry?”

“You’re forgiven. Alright astrologist, what was S.H.I.E.L.D. making you do?”

Jane’s forehead wrinkled. “I’m an astrophysicist, and I was working with the Tesseract and its correlation with HYDRA--”

“Radio waves. JARVIS, hook the astrologist up with everything we got. Let's get to work."

“But what of S.H.I.E.L.D.?” Thor said. “They claimed that our dealings with HYDRA were over.”

“We sunk their battleship, not even. They detonated themselves.” Tony tossed things off a workstation for Jane. “When is it ever that easy?”

“This is true…” Thor looked perplexed.

“Well while our buddies at S.H.I.E.L.D. excavate the wreckage, we’ll do our own research. That’s what Jane’s for. Me, I’ll conduct science on the Super Soldier.”

“Good thinking, Tony,” Steve said, and holy crap he complimented him. "Anything we can do to help?" 

“And what do I do with this?” Jane held up the coffee mug and blanket.  

"Yeah, bundle him up in this, and drink that," Tony said. "Thor, keep massaging him, the blush alone will raise the blood flow."

“Aye.” Thor went to work on the Super Soldier’s shoulders while Jane tried her best to near the bulky blondes without stammering.

And it was frikken hilarious to see Steve turn beet red.

 

* * *

 

As Tony began to gather data, the findings only got more and more complicated. And it took longer than Tony’d like to admit, without a certain Science Bro around.

"Dr. Banner is all the way in Dubai and judging from our previous records, your 'house party' invitations have gone unanswered," Fury said.

"Oh?" Tony cocked his head to the side. "You've counter hacked me?"

"Indeed I have, consider it a returned favor for all 17 times you've hacked us." Fury smiled which was downright terrifying.

 

Jane reported her findings to them a few days later. Turned out that all of the civilians had already been released. The Avengers had received no notifications. S.H.I.E.L.D. didn’t call or write, not even a text message. That was just hurtful. 

Two could play that game. If they wanted to be cryptic then Tony was up for the challenge since he knew for a fact that the Avengers were steps ahead of them. So whenever Agent Coulson came around to check the status of Cap, Tony ignored it. He refused to let him in the lab and once he even fogged the door class with his breath, just to write "lol" for him.

But Cap's case was all on Tony, and the longer he worked on it the more complicated it became. Steve's physical and mental condition was sporadic but on an overall decline. Nothing was dying or decaying which was a relief for like a second, until Tony was baffled once again without a lead.

The only thing was the hypothermia hypothesis.

Although Steve’s core temperature was in a constant flux, it loosely correlated with any temperature decrease. Like anyone suffering from hypothermia, when he dropped too low his coordination, speech, and overall consciousness fell. And being smack dab in the middle of December made life all the more complicated. 

Whenever Steve started having symptoms Tony ordered JARVIS to turn the heat higher than the already recommended 88 degrees. They’d be celebrating Christmas in tank tops and shorts, or in Thor’s case - which resulted in a near nosebleed from Jane - nudity.

Romanoff was the only one persistent enough to explain to the one-man nudist colony that nudity was not a thing on planet Earth. Apparently it is on Asgard. Then Clint decided to have his own nude episode.

“What? Thor’s doing it!” he complained.

Yeah, Widow stamped that out fast.

But besides the heat skyrocketing they took on other measures, like cooking only hot foods. Keeping Cap on a regular diet of piping hot meals as well as spicy whenever Clint was in the kitchen.

Tony also went out and ordered sweaters, scarves, jackets, warmth galore for Cap’s entire wardrobe… Which Cap didn’t appreciate. Something about not needing 30 sweaters because it was “excessive”. So Steve kept a few and donated the rest when Tony refused to take them back, that asshole.

All of this helped. At times.

The chill was attached to Cap’s DNA so there was only so much they could do externally. If it was a permanent change in his overall make, then Tony had to figure out what sort of lasting effects this overall decline had on him. If the hypothermia drove Cap to an unconscious state then that state had to be further observed. 

So Tony began to monitor Cap while he slept, in a strictly professional way of course.

One night he hooked Steve up to machines and checked the activity throughout the night. And Cap really was a sound sleeper, after staring for a few minutes Tony realized the guy hadn’t budged. After being hooked up. And Tony dropping a few things. He didn’t think a Super Soldier could be a deep sleeper…

Until he saw the readings, or complete lack of activity on the monitor. He thought his arc reactor stopped when herealized it was his own heart.

“Steve, what the hell, Steve!--“

And Tony nearly missed the monitor beep.

Slow, but stable.

No further decreases, only when he slept. 

A week and a few insomniac hallucinations later, Tony had a theory.

One that left him hollow inside.

 

* * *

 

Cap rolled up his sleeve and Tony took the daily sample of blood. In retrospect really was no different from the S.H.I.E.L.D. vampires but he had to make sure the theory was holding up. JARVIS read off the numbers. In just a week the figures had fallen.

Confirmed.

"Tony?" Tony realized he hadn't said anything since he had entered, and Steve was staring.

Jane was getting groceries with Thor – something that Tony couldn’t visualize. Clint followed to take pictures. Natasha followed to break up the party.

"So I have a theory." Tony began tapping his pointer against his palm. He turned to Cap but he couldn’t keep his eyes on him. "Of your condition. It's valid right now, I don't have a cure, but it's holding up so far--"

"What is it?" Cap voice remained steady.

"Yeah, condition. How long were you on ice for exactly?”

“Around 70 years…”

“That’s what I thought. Just reaffirming, can never be too careful. This is out there. More out there. But you’re probably used to that by now, we id fight aliens--”

“Tony.” The pointer clattered to the ground and Tony's palm was beaten red. Steve put a hand on his shoulder, those eyes boring into him. Like pools of liquid concern.

"The ice, I think it’s the ice? It solidified in your chemical make, I guess, I don't know, the serum wasn't fully stabilized back in your Nazi kicking days? Or it could have been more-- Anyway."

Tony paused but Steve had nothing to say, just hanging on his every word. 

"You were under ice, that suspended animation state. Since you were frozen for that long, it damaged your structure. And your DNA has been rewired to automatically - gradually -  fall back into that state."

The last sentence rushed out and Tony looked at Steve, to see he didn't react at all. That made it all the worse.

“Suspended animation,” Steve said.

Tony nodded.

"For how long." His tone was quiet, vacant.

Tony felt another twitch come on, this time in his stomach. "I don't, I don't know. Could be another 70 years, really. Or it could be much longer-" He reeled himself back in and added, "Or shorter. Your post serum time was 3 years, and this came on in about under a year. At the rate of deceleration, you have another month, two max? Until... Yeah."

Stop rambling. Stop thinking negatively.

"And a cure, is there..."

"Yeah there is.” Tony blurted. “Not currently but I'm working on it. The serum is being difficult to crack but once I can crack that shell I can fix the damage. And boom, no hibernation." Tony clapped his hands together and grinned. "Just regular happy, healthy, Spangles. And you'll be back on the team."

It was sickening how much Tony wished that was true. That he wasn't trying to crack Vibranium with a tiny hammer and chisel. It was like a Fairy Tale ending that he usually pointed and laughed at, but now he was mentally begging for it. This helplessness was like a horrible itch under his skin he wanted to claw out, rub away his skin and peel back layer after layer until he reached the problem, the pain of it all.

But he couldn’t, and it drove him insane.

Steve smiled at him without any sort of warmth. He  lowered his hand from Tony’s shoulder.

"Then let’s hope, right?" he said.

Tony didn’t remember if he nodded or what but when he finally responded, Steve was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for being patient with me. My finals ended Friday so the updates will be coming regularly now. I didn't get to edit the entire chapter so there'll be a 6.5ish, since if I pushed back the second half then the order will screw up. So yeah, hope you enjoyed it, and thanks for sticking around! :)


	7. The Pain of it All (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm upping the rating just for suggestive themes, which will come full force in Chapter 9. Just a heads up.
> 
> Also, this is technically Chapter 6.5... If that makes sense. Still Tony's PoV.

Christmas came and went just like any other day. There wasn't a tree or decorations, or even a sprig of mistletoe in the doorways. Apparently none of the team members were good at being festive - excluding Thor since he couldn’t be blamed for not knowing anything Earth related. But the rest couldn't loosen up, let alone party.

If presents were exchanged then Tony missed seeing them. Thor and Clint cooked a giant breakfast. Other than that, the most festive thing that day was freakin’ Agent in a Santa hat. Really brought out the flush in his deadpan.

He was there all of five minutes. Romanoff left with him.

Steve wished them all a Merry Christmas, but he didn't stick around much. After Tony told him his theory, Steve went and told the rest of the team; who could blame him for not feeling festive, regardless of how many days it’d been. He probably left to avoid his mood spreading like the plague. Didn't work too well.

Barton took off after breakfast.

"Ah, if only my trips between realms were not so costly. Perhaps a cure for Friend Steven may reside somewhere in Asgard," Thor lamented on the couch. "If only I could leave now. Why is S.H.I.E.L.D. is taking so long in their recovery of the Tesseract's remnants?"

Jane sat next to him, notebook in hand, somewhat nibbling on the end of her black pen. "I haven't gotten any updates since the prisoners' bit. Maybe we should bring it up with Phil."

“But the Son of Coul has already left,” Thor said.

“It couldn’t hurt to stop in and ask. It’d only be for a few minutes, how busy can he be?”

"I suppose." Thor stood up. "Let us go, then."

"Whoa, wait," Tony said after gulping down his recent order of coffee. "You're suggesting Phil 'forgot' to mention something? If that’s the case then you're better off breaking into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database."

"My laptop isn't powerful enough," Jane said. She shut her notebook and looked over at Tony. "And your lab is occupied."

"What? I made a workstation for you! Astrology aside, it's not the most spacious but--"

"Your work _devoured_ my workstation." Jane didn't sound agitated but it still made Tony flinch. "I figured you needed your space, which is fine. We'll take care of it, Tony. You do what you need to do."

"Yes, take care," Thor added.

It was after Thor and Jane left, Tony by himself in the living room, that he realized that they didn't hang around much in the lab anymore. No one did.

His lab was messy but not uninhabitable - Tony did find reasonable places to sleep after all. But not even Steve hung around in his lab anymore. His visits had declined like a dying flame. In fact Tony would go so far to say that Steve had stopped speaking to him altogether, which grated him internally. There was no reason to punish the messenger, to stop speaking to him… Was there?

But the times Tony did see Steve bothered him a lot. More than he'd ever admit, and for unconventional reasons. There was that constant worrying with Cap, that nick in his brow that made it seem permanently furrowed. These days he was always furrowed, when before it didn’t used to be that way. Or more of as much.

It went away a few times; Tony remembered the day they danced together. That seemed like years ago. Now, Steve never seemed happy. And for good reason, really he didn't blame the guy. 

He just wished the Super Soldier would smile more.

70 years, maybe more, maybe less. Tony was already 25, give or take an extra 20 something years. He tapped his fingers against one of his monitors, trying not to let the ideas get to him but like the shrapnel, they were there and very much a threat. 

Tony broke and fixed his fair share of things, the good majority of the breaking unintentional but he fixed them all the same. That was his job, to fix whatever was broken.

 _Could_ Steve be fixed? But it ran deeper than just repairing the serum. Could Tony just make him smile a little more? Forget the suits, the money, the fake friends, etc. etc. etc. If he could get Steve to smile more, Tony could double up his billionaire status all over again.

 

* * *

 

His eye would not stop twitching by the end of the week, regardless of how much he rested them. Sleep was so sporadic that his joints physically ached.

He was actually starting to feel his age, regardless of chewing coffee grinds and popping over the recommended dosage of pain killers. But it wasn’t enough because he had nothing to show for it, not a single step closer to cracking the serum.

Literally, the serum’s chemical make refused to crack. It could not be broken down, and trial after virtual trial of attempting to at least bust it open to access the situation proved to be a failure. It was like trying to crack a diamond without the other diamond, and both the existent and nonexistent diamonds were flawed. Even if he could get it to fissure, he could not restore it to a former state when he lacked a base to go by.

Research was all but nonexistent since Dr. Erskine wrote down absolutely none of his findings. Great thinking to keep it out of the wrong hands. Freakin’ horrible news for Tony. Hell, fragmented notes would be better than no notes at this rate, but he didn’t even have those. The notes he found in his research were so flawed he questioned how the papers’ bindings held together. He needed jaded, but not completely off the mark.

But Bruce wasn’t returning his messages.

When Tony searched his Science Bro’s phone for visuals, all he got was darkness. Did Bruce even have his phone anymore? He twitched at the possibilities of what fate the phone might’ve reached, so he chose to not think about it. It was pushed into the back of his head, _almost_ gone.

This was getting old real fast, and the lack of options was crippling without Bruce. On having to rely on someone else. This is why Tony just didn’t like people. 

Tony wasn't sure when he passed out but he woke up to Dummy repeatedly knocking into his leg. He was on the floor and his joints hurt. His vest to his skin due to a thin coat of sweat; the heater was on way too high.

"Fuck, Dummy, back away before I magnetize you. Actually, that's a horrible idea. JARVIS," Tony rubbed his face, the stubble turning to beard. "How long was I out?"

"Since the afternoon Sir. It has been four hours. Might I suggest you run a hot bath and relax?"

"If there's a punch line I missed it JARVIS. That’s not an option." Tony stood up and stretched, an audible crack emitting from his back. "Back to work."

Or more dead ends. Coffee cups and food containers overthrew the garbage can, their numbers great because of mainly Steve. But nowadays he dropped the food and left, making only polite conversation.

Spilled coffee pooled by one station; it was a dark moment when he shoved some files over and knocked the cup off on accident. But he threw paper towels onto the puddle, forgot to pick it up, and now Tony had a new rug made of sticky papier-mâché. Fuck yeah arts and crafts.

The rest of the mess was uncreative, uneventful. Just files stacked high and appliances littering low, and many flow charts with varying diagrams. And that didn’t count all of the virtual files hovering about like low-hanging clouds.

Maybe Dummy couldn’t be blamed for smacking him, since he had just over a yard of free space to roam before something snagged into his wheels.

“Screw this, five minute break. That much is fine.”

Tony was greeted by a ton of emails that he skimmed through in under a few seconds before he got bored. They consisted of invitations to places, swanky events, and galas where he had to be a _person_ and interact with intelligible words. 

There were also emails from Pepper, the other reason why he stopped scrolling. Updates on the company, meetings that she worked and reworked around his schedule. An attempt to coax him with convenience, but the Avengers avenging was a great excuse to keep postponing things.

All the emails were formal, straightforward, and to the point.

And all opened, which Tony did not recall opening. Force of habit he supposed, subconsciously clicking through things. When he was drunk.

Then again he also didn’t remember when the present appeared on the counter, precariously balanced on top a stack of files. It had precise, elegant folds.

 _From Pepper_ the note said. Nothing else. Despite not speaking for over a month. 

“JARVIS, you didn’t happen to send Pep a present, did you?”

“I did, Sir. It was the Christmas bonus that you ordered me to automatically send, starting two years ago.”

“Huh. That was smart of me.”

“You said the same thing last year.”

The wrapping was concise, without a wrinkle or any form of excess tape, but he didn’t expect any less. The present itself was a pair of cufflinks, crimson and gold. No note attached.

A gift without incentive. Tony was a hard man to shop for but Pepper usually got creative. Now, not so much. This was lackluster. She cared enough to send a present but at a loss for personalization.

Tony fell back in his chair. “Maybe I should send her a message. JARVIS, what do you think?”

“I do not believe therapy is in my design, Sir.”

“You couldn’t just humor me?”

“Upon further research, I should respond with something along the lines of ‘Follow your heart’.”

“Ugh.” Tony sat up and scrubbed his face. “That’s cruel. Was that a reactor jab?”

“I wouldn’t dream of the sort. However, Miss Potts did send an urgent email.”

“What.” Tony swiveled to his computer, trying to not automatically suspect the worst, i.e. an attack on the city, rage over some situation, or more specifically, more Tony-induced rage…

But no, it was a PR event. An invitation to a New Year’s party, guest list filled to the brim with important figure heads and grating paparazzi. Tony scoffed, like that was what he wanted to do while buried in work, or at all. He was ready to delete it when he noticed the article attached to the page.

The vivid headline photo was of the HYDRA ship burning off the coastline. _Can Jaded Heroes Guarantee our Safety?_ was the initial statement. Tony briefly scrolled through, catching the accusations being made about the team, whether they are to blame for the damages the ship created, and if the situation could have been handled better. And that was just the first article. Of six articles. HYDRA may be gone for now but the city’s damage and apprehended civilians weren’t doing them any favors.

 _Please attend the party tonight_ Pepper’s email read. _I can only put out so many fires_.

Which meant that all of the Avengers had to make an appearance.

 

* * *

 

 

New Year’s Eve was a sea of gridlocked car lights and people of varying stages of intoxication flooding the streets. Taking any form of a land vehicle was out of the question, so they resorted to the best method of travel: jet. The agents wanted to shut down that party but Tony, Barton, and Thor overpowered the debate. Steve and Jane kept out of it, which was best for everyone since Tony’s side won.

They landed the jet on the roof of the Grand Marquis after Agent lectured and continued to lecture Tony on how “irresponsible” and “inconsiderate” it would be to park in valet. But that ended up working out for everyone since entering the hotel in front would throw them at the base of the paparazzi onslaught. If they snuck in through the upper floors, maybe they’d go unnoticed. For most of the night.

Tony was feeling very wishful tonight.

The inside was golden like usual but silver directions lined every floor, and in the center of the lobby a gigantic crimson pine tree stood as a blatant reminder of the holidays. Waiters and waitresses patrolled the floor with finger food. Simple, slow Christmas carols played in background.

And Tony’s tie would not stay down.

“Should we enter all at once?” Cap asked, eyeing the crowds.

“Sounds like we’re entering battle,” Barton said.

“We technically are.” Agent was retying Barton’s tie in the elevator because somehow Barton managed to create a makeshift noose with it. Further reinforced the theory that anything an Agent touches turns deadly. “We have to be careful when dealing with the media. With too much information leaked, society will panic.”

“Completely under control.” Tony stared at Barton’s perfectly executed tie, and then glanced at his own. It stuck in an odd angle that he just couldn’t seem to brush down. “It’ll be fine. Check in, check out, then head home.”

But as soon as the elevator doors opened, Thor stepped out, extended his arms, and exclaimed, “Greetings, participants of the impending year! I am Thor of Asgard, one of six proud members of the Avengers!”

Because Thor in full on regal armor which is custom in his homeland wasn’t attention grabbing enough.

“Yep, time to get this party started.” Tony immediately headed for the drinks, casually greeting people as he passed. Agent also spent the entire plane ride debriefing them on what and what not to say and frankly, Tony didn’t remember a word of it.

Not like he needed the extra help in dealing with the media since he’s gotten better; Tony has retained all articles of clothing in the more recent videos. And in most recent he was completely absent to the public. Tony had this.

As for the other Avengers…?

Clint disappeared within the first five minutes. Tony thought he caught a glimpse of Hawk perching on the edge of one of the higher floors but he was gone by the second glance. Instead, Tony was greeted by a reporter that was not too subtle, brimming with anticipation just by the way the guy vibrated.

“Mr. Stark, can I ask you some questions?”

“You already started.”

“What are your thoughts on S.H.I.E.L.D.’s failure to comment on the HYDRA disaster?”

“It’s a disaster now?” Tony swirled the contents of his glass before downing it, and plucking another from a passing waiter. “So notoriety equals larger words. When does it become a catastrophe? Or a cataclysm?”

“I uh… I don’t--”

“Personally I prefer calamity, rolls off the tongue.”

This was too easy, the man was speechless. Tony leaned forward to be eye level with him, and with narrowed eyes he extended his arm. “See that man?” He pointed toward Agent, who was already juggling three reporters at once. “He’s the one you need to talk to.”

“But I--”

“He renounced my speaking privileges. Go get him.” And like that, Tony slipped back into the crowd.

Thor was doing his own fair share of deflection but unintentionally. His voice carried across the lobby, drawing people into his stories of Asgard and otherworldly things like a beacon. Tony doubted any reporter could persist on prying when Thor was talking about other realms. Jane was off to the side with Natasha, talking about something like makeup or stars, who knew.

People came up to speak to them but Romanoff had them both covered, probably why Jane stuck by her. She must have been skittish, putting it lightly, which made sense; for what reason would an astrologist find themselves under the spotlight?  

And then there was Steve, who spoke to people but not for too long. His average conversation lasted around 33.5 seconds, and judging by the disappointed expressions of the other parties, they didn’t get what they wanted. Tony noticed Steve was looking around a lot, which made Tony itch. Why? What was he doing?

“What are you doing?” Tony blurted out before he came to a full stop next to him.

Steve actually jumped, his shock affirmed when he turned to him with wise eyes. “What do you mean?”  

Crap, impulsive behavior. Not speaking for days created an overload that he now had to cover up. Tony shrugged. “You’re just standing there.”

“I don’t really know what to do,” Cap admitted. The drink in his hand was untouched. “Mingling isn’t really my thing. Especially the superficial kind.”

“Damn.” Tony glanced around; everyone around them was preoccupied. “Sassy much.”

“I didn’t mean that. I just…” And Steve covered his mouth as he yawned.

“Need to sit down?” Tony said.

Steve stiffened and replied a little too briskly, “I’m fine, thanks.”

“What?” Tony turned toward him, “Was that offensive? Which I didn’t intend for at all, just a simple, honest question.” Because Captain America shouldn’t have to sit down, and maybe the subject of the serum was sensitive, and Tony was never good with avoiding sore topics.

“Not that,” Cap sighed. “I appreciate your concern, really I do.”

Tony nodded, expecting Cap to say something more but he remained silent. He looked like there was something more, on the tip of his tongue, and there came that awkward note despite being surrounded by the buzz of people.

“Thanks,” Cap finally finished.

Tony stepped forward, wondering if he could persuade him to speak if they were alone. “You sure--”

“Captain America?” Dammit. A woman stood close by, hair golden and devious gleam in the eye that Tony faintly recalled. Faintly, which meant it wasn’t important. “Or should I say Mr. Rogers?” she tacked on with a quirked smile.

“Steve’s fine.” Steve turned and extended a hand. “Can I help you, Miss-”

No, Tony was getting a name… Crystal? Crissy. Chrysanthemum--

“Christine Everhart. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions?”

Tony peered around Cap to get a better look and yep, he remembered sleeping with that. “Uh, he can’t,” Tony automatically stood in between the two. “But I can. When’d you change your name?”

“Tony Stark, of course you wouldn’t remember me,” Christine laughed, light and airy. “But that’s fine, I’m actually not here to speak to you, if you can fathom it.”

Tony shrugged. “Your loss.”

“You two know each other?” Steve sidestepped Tony’s physical blockade.

“Hardly. She asked me for gum once.”

Again with that laugh. “If that’s your term for one night stand, alright. Steve, can- Are you okay…?”

Cap was coughing although the glass in his hand still full. His ears were red, though not totally noticeable, but did he actually know what one night stand meant? Those kind of things just can’t be said around a 40s man. Was he that much of a prude? “Good, fine, w-what was it you wanted to ask me?”

“Precisely that,” Christine said, cocking her head to the side. “You seem stressed, or maybe exhausted? Under the lighting, you look pale.”

Wait, there was something else begging to be remembered. This was a tactic, wasn’t it?

“That’s exactly it, the lights.” Steve pointed up and around, “It’s maybe a filter, or something--”

“Really? You would think that the captain of an all-powerful band of heroes would be a little more worried about their overall reputation, being that they couldn’t prevent billions of dollars in offshore damages.”

That was it. That “razorblade under the present’s wrapping” technique. Tony was remembering too much now.

“Since when were we liable for collateral damage?” Tony said. “We catch the criminals, do the dirty work, and on top of that you’re suggesting us be the cleanup crew?”

“But someone needs to be held accountable, and your team did help with cleaning up the damages done from the attack on Times Square.” Christine didn’t spare Tony a glance, too heated on Steve to notice. “If your team’s sole cause is to protect the civilian population, then shouldn’t that apply to every outlet, which also includes structural damages?”

“Well yes.” Steve looked more pinched than anything, dropping the plastered smile to deal with this thing. “And we have been. Various teammates have been working with S.H.I.E.L.D. and with local communities to keep everyone safe, in all aspects. That hasn’t been covered in the news but it’s not about the notoriety, just helping people.”

“And what about you?” Christine shot. “As the team leader, shouldn’t you be with your team?”

“I am,” Steve said, but Tony caught the off note in his tone. “At all times.”

“Including the attack offshore, even during the detonation? The one that you should have anticipated in your many dealings with kamikazing soldiers during World War II--”

“Okay.” Tony interjected the same time in which Agent said, “Mind if I cut in?”

“Of course not,” Christine smiled with the undertone of a razorblade. “And you are…?”

“Phil Coulson, I’m with S.H.I.E.L.D.,” he said with a smile as exciting as wallpaper glue. “And I’d be happy to answer any questions you may have concerning the recent attacks, though I cannot reveal any classified information.”

“Over a drink?” she said, tone slightly dejected. Agent maneuvered Christine away.

“I’m going outside for a minute,” Cap said, tone unreadable. “Do you want to--”

“I need more booze,” Tony said before darting off to find a waiter.

 

* * *

 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Clint laughed.

Clint finally returned to the land of the living, when everyone was slightly buzzed. Well, buzzed enough to no longer care to ask questions, or at least as much. Or Clint just didn’t get bothered, since his job is mostly staying out of the limelight since being a marksman keeps him hidden.

Currently, he stood next to Tony with an abducted tray of quiches. "Looks like Thor picked up the moves fast," he added.  

"Barton, the two muscular blondes on our team aren't interchangeable. That is clearly Steve with Romanoff."

"Yeah and Thor and Jane are right there." Clint pointed to the right, where Tony somehow missed Thor in all of his formal armor swaying with Jane and her pixie dress. Made her even smaller.

Tony gulped down the rest of his champagne, and made a face to how awful it was.

"Don't miss a beat, do you Hawk?"

"Hard to miss a guy in a bright curtain, just saying."

"Yep. Yeah, good quality fun all around. Ball drops in 23."

Barton nodded and swapped trays with one of the passing waiters. "Just my luck. Finally get to spend some time with Phil and he's busy with damage control."

Romanoff had her lips close to Steve's ear now... Were they talking? What about? And why _that close_? Tony plucked off a cocktail.

"He hasn't been around lately," Tony automatically said.

"Yeah,” Clint agreed, somehow he knew about Steve. “The paperwork on his desk alone resembles the skyline, HYDRA's low note and all." Oh wait, Agent.

"And here I thought I offended him one too many times. Damn."

"Hah, I'd be without a job if his fuse was that short."

The song ended and they were apart, and just like that Romanoff was gone. Cap stood there for a second longer than necessary, that permanent furrow upholding its title, even after he walked off. But Tony already "bumped" into Cap too many times tonight, any more and it'd seem obsessive. Or a known obsessive. Tony made a mental note to ask him later.

Tony turned back to- crap, was Clint talking the entire time? Clint watched him with those hawk eyes, meaning he didn't miss anything. Tony quickly flashed him a smile, which usually worked with the ladies.

Barton cringed instead.

"What, too much? I was listening, just without the audio part--"

"I didn't say anything," Barton said.

"Oh… Your troubles might be over though.” Tony set down his cup and took a quiche. “Herbal Essence and Jane went to see Phil on Christmas. Said his office was pretty empty."

“Empty?” Clint turned his head.

“Uh, clean? Uninhabited by files. Said they caught him on their way out.”

Again there was an awkward silence. Tony just about finished jotting a mental note to avoid conversations with those beefy and blonde, excluding Thor, when Clint said, “He said his office was a mess.”

“You didn’t see the file skyline?” Tony said.

“No… He won’t let me in his office.” Clint’s voice was quiet.

There were a couple people by the refreshment table, eyeing them with drinks in hand. Regular people besides the tiny notepads and microphones jutting from their pockets and bags, and carnivorous glaze in their eye.

Tony and Clint dispersed.

And really, it would have gone a lot smoother if there weren't gunshots.

Tony whirled around to see if Barton heard it, catching the agent disappearing further into the crowd.

Panic. The guests' reaction times were uncanny but with screams flooding the place people were desperate to get out, or worse, discover the source. Damn reporterly types.

Tony's armor was in the jet, which in retrospect didn't make much sense. The lack of sleep was making him crazy, well crazier. But it would take too long to get it, and what if the gunshot hit one of the team? He’d be alone on the roof without means to be contacted for a good while, practically useless, although now he was pretty much in the same situation.

Thor was in the air, commanding the masses to head for the exits.

Out of the thinning crowds Tony caught Steve standing close to Jane, both also directing the crowds safely.

Tony nearly jumped out of his skin when a hand clasped his shoulder.

"We need to leave, now," Agent ordered, walkie talkie in hand.

"Us? But we're the good guys." Tony nudged him off. "Why would we leave?"

"Because we are the marked target."

Agent gave orders into the receiver while Tony clapped his hands together and yelled. "Okay everyone, back to the jet! Party's over!"

 

* * *

 

Natasha was the one who was shot. A bullet to the thigh but a low caliber. Immediately taken to S.H.I.E.L.D. extensive care.

Everyone else was shipped back to Stark’s Tower except for Barton, Agent, and Thor in order to find the bastard with the gun and secure the area.

So far, no news.

Tony craved to say something because the tension was unbearable. He and Jane exchanged a few words, but the mood was grim, and she didn’t see anything suspicious at the time. Just like him, she only heard the shot. Cap was silent the entire way, hands clenched. He headed downstairs the moment the plane landed.

“I’m going to… go to bed,” Jane gestured toward the stairs. “Happy New Year, Tony.”

She walked off, pair of heels dangling from her hand. There were fireworks breaking up the continuous darkness overhead, and loud music among cheering down below.

“Oh yeah, the New Year.” Tony loosened his tie once inside, wishing the feeling in his stomach would settle but he felt hung over. “Fan-freakin’-tastic.

Because a hit placed on the team was a great way to kick off 2013. A perfect little bolt to add onto the mound of problems already on Tony’s plate. No answers, more problems and he wasn’t sure how much more he could handle to be honest. His back already began to ache.

“JARVIS…” Tony waved a hand in the air, the enthusiasm pathetic in his voice. At least JARVIS remained a constant in his life. “Stay alert to S.H.I.E.L.D. updates, and if there’s none in the next hour--”

"Break through their systems, understood. But before you run yourself back into the ground, there is a Dr. Bruce Banner here--"

" _What._ "

A monitor whirred to life and there, standing on the makeshift doorstep of Stark’s Tower was a tweed-clad asshole, clutching a worn suitcase.

Tony calmly proceeded up the stairs of his lab, through the living room and into the elevator where he patiently waited until he reached the first floor, and in the lobby where JARVIS directed Bruce to enter, was where he was to receive the most standoffish glare Tony could muster. Within extremely close proximity.

"Tony! I'm sorry--" Bruce stammered before such action was initiated, before Tony exploded.

"Bruce what the hell are you doing here _now_? I tried contacting you too many times, and you choose now, on the freakin’ New Year- Were you partying? You better not have a party hat--”

“Not that I’m aware of, unless the taxi driver snuck one when I wasn’t looking--”

“No jokes.” Tony slapped Bruce’s hand. “ANYWAY, you appear on my doorstep like the fucking Chosen One, or a Christmas miracle, you asshole, you… Thank God.” Tony yanked Bruce into the tightest hug he could muster, and kissed him on both cheeks. Maybe he was delirious but right now he did not give a damn. _“_ Or Thor, can you think of other Gods? Hell, thank them all!" Tony picked Bruce's glasses and suitcase up, knocked away in the collision, and placed them back on him.

"I’m sorry, I really am,” Bruce did sound genuine, and unphased. “I came as soon as I knew something was up. You look... Awful," Bruce fixed his glasses. "And hysterical. Jeeze, are you okay?"

"Now I am! I need your help, we need to catch up, and it feels like decades. Let’s put your stuff away." Tony snatched back the suitcase and steered him away. "So how've you been buddy? Hulk rescue any stray cats from trees?"

Bruce chuckled and said, "Not quite. That's part of the reason I came here, actually. What's been happening? I would have come sooner but--"

"Yeah you didn't return any of my messages. What gives, Science Bro? No, don't tell me now." Tony tossed Bruce's worn suitcase on the bed and steered him right back out. "Let's catch up over coffee. Or booze. Or both."

"I'll take tea if that's alright, thanks."

 

* * *

 

A few cups later and Tony had Bruce caught up to speed with everything, from HYDRA's invasions and evil plan, to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s inefficacies and Patchy's intentions, to how all the Avengers are living under Tony's roof, the current situation with Romanoff, and finally, Steve's condition. Bruce remained silent, turning his spoon in his tea, or cleaning his glasses, all while watching a spot on the table. When Tony finished he took a massive swig of his coffee, and they set their cups down at the same time.

"That clarifies some things on my end," Bruce said. "The HYDRA portion at least. It's why I haven't responded to your messages... I uh, lost my phone."

"What? How? I thought all you had was a toothbrush, how do you lose one of two things?"

"It's not easy keeping things when you wake up without any recollection of the day before. And bruises."

"Yeesh, sounds like a bad hangover."

Bruce laughed. "You can call it that. But my point is that the time I tried to check, I hulked out."

"Was the Wi-Fi shit?"

"Uh, I wouldn't know. I never got to check... I did see that I had a message, but I wasn't used to the sensitive screen was accidentally pressed the radio, and then uh... I woke up in a field." Bruce wrung his hands together before holding them in place. He glanced back up. "I'm guessing the station I was on had the undetectable frequencies, and the other guy didn't like the idea of being HYDRA's puppet."

"I don't see who would. I can consider forgiving you."

"I hope so. Wouldn't want you mad at me while I worked." The smile faded from Bruce's face. "It sounds like much hasn't changed with S.H.I.E.L.D.  Always seemed like a shady bunch. I'm glad that Agent Coulson is okay though... And they're all living here?"

"Clint and Romanoff are. Agent folds into his desk and switches off."

Bruce grimaced though, and Tony shook his head. "Clint's with us. He and Agent are a thing I guess, but that whole 'Fury lying about Phil's death' rubbed him the wrong way. Romanoff... That's something else."

Bruce gave a dark laugh. "Understandable."

"It really is. Did you know she stabbed me in the neck with a needle? Just don't make eye contact."

"And Thor, it's good that he's happy. I mean, the whole battle must have been rough for him, having to fight his own brother... And he still has to clean up the mess."

Bruce was covering all his bases slowly and methodically, something Tony valued but couldn't do with any sort of system. And then he reached the final point.

"Steve, where is he?"

"Down in the gym. JARVIS told me to tell you he said hi, by the way. He's... Holding up." Because Tony wasn't sure. Was Tony reacting worse than the guy being afflicted?

"And you think I can be of some help?" Bruce was incredulous at best. "You're talking to the guy who failed, pretty badly I may add, at replicating the serum--"

"But you were close. Bruce. Brucey..." Tony scooted his chair over. Was it all the coffee? Or maybe getting some sleep, his heart was racing and he couldn't think straight. "You're the best shot Steve's got. I don't know what the hell I'm doing! It took me a week to figure it out, a week we don't have. At least you know what not to do, you can fix it. Science Bro?" He almost wanted to clasp his hands, or kiss him some more, anything.

Bruce sighed, watching Tony for a few seconds before saying, "Then I better get started. Where's the lab?"

If the possibility of breaking his spine didn't exist Tony would have back flipped.

"Then let’s do this. JARVIS, turn down the AC because Science Bros are at work--"

"Actually, Tony I think it'd be best if you um, took a break." Bruce bit his lower lip, directing his attention back toward the wall. "It's great that you're all motivated, really commendable, but you've been at it for a while--"

"B-but, you're seizing my project?"

"Temporarily. Consider it a night off? Let me work the night."

"But two science heads are better than one!" Tony flailed his arms.

"Haha, that's true, but maybe you could use this time to keep Steve company. He probably needs it."

Tony was ready to rebut Bruce's mutiny, when he stopped him cold in his tracks. He shut his mouth, opened back up and went dead like a blown light bulb.

"Fine. Don't have too much fun without me." Tony pushed away from the table with a pout. “I’ll be going then.”

Tony made it to the doorway before Bruce called him; did his guilt trip actually work?

“Hey, Tony?”

“Yes m’dear?” Tony leaned back in.

“You said Natasha was in a stable condition, right?” Bruce’s tone was quiet.

“Uh… yeah. Why?”

“Just making sure. Thanks.”

Bruce sent him a weak smile and nodded, signaling the end of their conversation. Tony left, thinking of how weird that was before shoving it to the back of his mind. Because what he currently had on his hands was a mixed privilege. Forgoing a cure for Cappy to hang out with Cappy. He didn't know what to feel, so he let JARVIS show Bruce the way before heading down to the gym, eyes narrowed in thought.

Like small, quick explosions Tony heard the punching as he neared the room, hits echoing off the walls. It was a large, high room with mobile weights, obstacle courses and a boxing ring, and he saw Cap at the far end, going at an old fashioned punching bag.

And it was truly something to see.

Everything that Steve didn't vocalize was coming out in full, him driving blow after blow into the bag without pause, eyes ablaze with a distant but tangible pain, lip curled into a snarl. Just going without any fatigue, as if he was the spangled soldier commanding the battlefield. It was a damn shame that Tony reinforced that bag to withstand blows much stronger than his. By now the sand should've been trickling out. He could imagine the grains catching the light on their way to the ground.

So much so that it wasn't his imagination.

The structural supports groaned beneath the accelerated hits. More sand escaped with every blow.  The punches were concentrated, precise, and even the best armors faltered when focused on a specific spot.

And then the haymaker, wide but efficient enough to send the bag flying, sand streaming behind.

Before Tony could generate a verbal response, Cap's back hit the wall. The inner fire reduced to quick labored breaths.

“What are you doing here?" Cap said without looking up.

Tony watched him struggled to catch his breath, as if he were a normal person having finished a cross-country marathon. But Steve was not a normal person, because marathons was the kiddy pool compared to what the super soldier should be capable of doing, what, making the world safe from bad guys and punching bags everywhere? There was something horribly wrong with the current picture.

“You’re not-” Wow Tony’s voice echoed “-Personally blaming yourself for Romanoff.” Because that is something Steve would do and it came out without a beat.

“Not just that.” Steve said after a moment’s pause. He forced himself straight judging by the strain on his face. But he was up, partially functional at judging by the lidded eyes. “Everything. Nothing feels right anymore, and I can’t fix any of it. I feel more like a civilian than a captain.” He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, mused bangs falling back into place. “Maybe this is my punishment for defying God, or something like that.”

“Nonsense," Tony said. "By that logic my suit should have imploded on me repeatedly, speaking of ironic punishment. And it’s not like you created the super serum, you just-” Tony felt his chest tighten as the sentiment left his lips in a garbled stumble. “You just wanted to protect people.”

“Heh, I’ll remember that in another 70 years.”

It was like a diagonal crack formed across his arc reactor, the resulting facial reaction unfortunately obvious.

“Sorry, that was out of line,” Steve quickly said.

“It’s nice hearing an apology on the other end for once but I can’t accept. How about you shower, you know, wash off all that boxing rage, and we can watch some horrible movie because it’s fun to make fun of those, and snack on fatty foods, unless you’re watching your weight. The life of a super soldier must be exhausting.”

Steve wasn’t looking at him as he unwound the bandages around his hands, but it was for the best because the side of his mouth quirked up in that subtle smile as he spoke. If full blast of those eyes coupled with that smile hit, Tony’s pants would obliterate. Already that sheen of sweat and flush made him squirmish.

“Sounds like a plan,” he said, basilisk gaze flickering up as Tony glanced at the ceiling.

“Plan, right. Away from keyboard.” Tony malfunctioned out of the room, into the kitchen.

It was hard to keep a lid on his emotions when so many things were hitting him at once. The hormones equivalent to a Catholic schoolgirl weakening his knees, along with, what, doubt? He never doubted anything, especially himself, but he was only a portion of Bruce’s expertise in this area. What if he couldn’t find a cure in time; he was the closest in history to replicating the super serum, but they all knew the result of his research. Could they fix something that hasn’t even been replicated yet? Doubt, doubt crept into the veins like the ice that crippled Steve’s serum to begin with. Doubt? He was Tony Stark, doubt should not be in his vocabulary, but the word took on so much weight when tacked onto Steve.

“Sir, the kernels need to remain in the bag in order to pop,” JARVIS chimed in.

“Whoops.” Tony stared at the scattered seeds at his shoes and the floor, mingling with the shredded pieces of bag.

After popping five bags of popcorn – how much refreshment did a super soldier need? – and surfing through the guide for the perfect horrible movie, Tony found himself restless. There were magazines on the coffee table he did not remember buying, that he arranged and rearranged by title, alphabet, by how attractive the people were on the cover, why did he have magazines? Because Steve still likes to read newspaper print, the eyesore, so Tony upgraded him to magazines. He was slowly but surely speeding him through the decades, and once he could get his hands on the man’s wardrobe Tony could soundly sleep. If Steve was going to fall through time again, the last thing Tony wants is to let him be a full century and then some behind on fashion, just in case.

His hands froze on the magazines, mentally cursing him for imagining first the worst possible outcome, but he wasn’t being negative, just realistic, when he didn’t want to be either.

Forty minutes passed and no sign of Steve. He shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth and headed to the patriotic man’s room.

 Tony heard the water running in the bathroom as he passed.

“Hey Cappy, you in there?” Tony mentally smacked himself for asking such an obvious question, quickly tacking on, “Look, I didn’t mean literally scrub the rage away, it’s just exaggerated speech.”

“It appears that Captain Rogers has fallen asleep,” JARVIS said.

“What?” What if it already happened, this impending hibernation or whatever, and he was ingesting water and completely unaware of it, and--

Tony pounded on the door, the words DANGER and OVERLOAD obstructing logical thoughts. “You better not be answering the door on purpose, you sick bastard, no really, open the door. Dammit, how did I forget-- JARVIS, open the door!”

Steam flooded the hallway as Tony barged in, ignoring how stupid he must look entering a shower fully clothed and scared shitless. He ordered the water off, stray drops echoing against the tile. Cap's silhouette was blurred in all the steam but Tony made out a few things, the leaning against the shower wall, His head tipped back as his thick, barreled chest rising and falling with every gradual breath...

“He is simply sleeping, Sir," JARVIS said. "He should be awake in several hours.”

“Oh. That’s just, just dandy.” Tony’s voice cracked before the silence seeped in, except for that damn rhythmic dripping of water. With the faded adrenaline, Tony’s eyes scanned Steve’s body, absorbing the flush of his firmed skin, the outrageous ratio from chest to waist, yet, balanced? by the length of those slender, chiseled arms and legs. And his hair, damp but golden and clinging to his face, plump lips parted slightly, indicating breathing…

The super serum sure was... something. Everything was generously crafted, generously endowed. Tony's eyes slipped between Steve's muscled thighs. _Everything._

“I don’t believe you’ve fallen asleep too, Sir?” Jarvis shattered the silence.

“No.” Tony cleared his throat, the dryness unmistakably correlated to his lead-weighted cock. “I uh, towels. Yeah.” He absent-mindedly reached for the towels.

“On the sink counter.”

“Yeah. You know I forget you can see every part of the house.  Tony peeled his stare away from Steve, wondering if he technically violated America’s Golden Boy. "Questionable behavior if you weren’t programmed to be that way.”

“Only as questionable as the person who created me.”

Tony cursed whatever God or set of Gods set up this scenario, this script set up for this porno waiting to happen – except with hotter guys – as he carefully dried Steve off. He ignored the weight throbbing between his own legs, the steam sticking his clothes to his skin, the collection of that and his own sweat, or hell maybe it was all his sweat. He resorted to dabbing Cap dry. He didn’t trust himself to touch anything for too long.

Hoisting an arm around his shoulder, Tony's knees buckled. under Steve’s weight. The scent of soap and the warmth of his skin wafted over Tony, baking him as if he wasn't wearing clothes. Nope, ignore that thought.  “Okay champ, you gotta help me here.”

Cap's head rolled against the crook of Tony's neck, and Tony felt his eyelashes brush his skin. And if that wasn’t enough, in the groggiest, husky tone Steve murmured Tony’s name.

Tony wanted to holler at the top of his lungs and thrust himself against the countertop edge.

“Yep, yeah it’s me, walk a little will ya’?” Tony gritted his teeth, aggression dripping from his mouth. “You’re physically killing me Rogers, I hope you know that.”

“Sorry…”

“Keep your English to yourself.”

Tony helped him to his bedroom and dumped Steve onto the bed, felt bad for leaving him half hanging off, and pulled him all the way on. He threw a blanket over him, glad that the guy was coherent enough to help somewhat with moving, so there was still time to figure out… something. He didn’t know what yet. His eyes narrowed at Steve as he slept, aching to touch the contours of his bare back, to analyze them, that and everything else about him. But Cap didn’t know that. He couldn’t know that. Tony didn’t even know it himself until the situation hit.

Bruce will find a cure, Tony kept telling himself in the shower. The pain of it all will be worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been over a week, but this half-chapter would not stop growing. I think it's safeish to say that I'll be getting the chapters out within two weeks, how about that? I hate this whole timeframe thing because it's awful when it gets broken. The PR event kind of came out of no where, but I think it works? Right? Right! 
> 
> Special thanks to my proofreaders IronPanda and Reebees, the former who has her own pool of fanfics (if you like the Hobbit check 'em out!), and the latter who shamelessly stalks my AO3 page. 
> 
> So yeah, Steve's up next. If you have any questions about the story or would like to talk about it/love the Avengers, feel free to message me on Tumblr! My url is ellie-bronte.tumblr.com. I'd love to hear from you guys. :D 
> 
> Til next time! (not a week, or maybe a week, who really knows anymore)


	8. Is it Really You?

Steve woke up at the crack of dawn, having slept most of yesterday away. He was still groggy by the time he was fully dressed. Maybe the fresh air would do him some good. Maybe. He grabbed his wallet and phone and headed out.

He asked JARVIS to not tell anyone about his trip.

Except for the early morning joggers, Central Park was quiet. Peaceful even. Steve wandered through the park until he felt secluded enough and sat down on one of the benches.

He exhaled and stared up at the sky. He had to do this, he kept reminding himself. He had to make the call. If he kept putting it off then the opportunity may be lost forever. It’d serve as a knot in the back of his head, a permanent regret for the rest of his life.

Bruce had yet to find anything to keep him from going under, and he was running out of time.

Not to mention, there could be some valuable information that Steve could have missed this entire time. Maybe, if Steve initially acted, the HYDRA assault could have been avoided in the first place.

 

* * *

 

"Steve?"

He knew who was there by the soft click of high heels that would have been otherwise silent against the stone floor. Natasha did look great in that slimming black number, hair trailing along her bare back like a shower of flame. The golden lights from the inside haloed her form, where on the ground long shadows were cast.

"Hey." Steve waved a little. "Having a good time?"

"More or less. Perhaps more than you." Natasha stood beside him, resting her elbows on the balcony rail. "Since you'd rather be out in the cold than put on a face."

"I didn't even notice." Steve just caught the glint of snowflakes against his suit sleeves. "My inner thermostat is a little… off."

His tone failed to register the joke.

Fortunately, Natasha ignored it. "Let's go back inside. There's something I need to tell you."

"Wouldn't here be a better place to talk?" Steve said.

"Captain America shouldn't be absent from the party for too long," Natasha stated, strained. Steve was thankful for the reminder, though if he wondered if lying through his teeth was really bolstering their PR. At this rate he was positive that he wasn’t fooling anyone, thanks to Miss Christine Everhart.

"How about this." Natasha turned toward him. "I'll keep you occupied." She had that tone, where she suggested much more than what she was saying.

"Oh?" Steve fumbled out.

The side of her mouth quirked up, but she said nothing else as they headed back inside together.

The amount of people seemed to have doubled while he was outside, or maybe he was feeling a little more claustrophobic. That was something else he hadn't experienced in a while, but not due to the serum's fracture. Already people were eyeing them, his height and stature really sticking him out of the crowd.

Over the hum of the voices he caught Thor telling a story, something about an eight-legged horse. Enhanced hearing really prevented Steve from avoiding others' conversations, which sometimes came in handy but others, he felt like a busy body.

"Really it was a sight to behold, the speed at which this creature could travel with all of its legs in action!" Thor’s laugh was contagious; people were hanging on his every word. Really he had a gift, being able to tell stories for hours and still keep the same level of enthusiasm. "But myself and all of my comrades already owned the best of noble steeds, and thus it was gifted... To my brother." 

Steve winced. Thor had been telling stories all night so he figured the slip up was unintentional, but he heard the next reporter's comment: "You mean Loki?"

Whispers began, things like _"The war criminal"_ and _"also an Asgardian?"_ floating along and Thor remained silent.

"Um," Jane piped up, "If it's alright by all of you, Thor and I would like to dance." And she led him away by the wrist.

Steve released the breath he was holding in, but then realized that the dancing area was exactly where Natasha had led him.

He glanced over at Natasha; she wasn't one for making mistakes.

"We've been practicing. Don't be nervous." She placed his hand on her waist.

She was right. During one of their sparring sessions a while back he had asked her if she knew anything about ballroom dancing. Ever since then, though their schedule had been off lately, Natasha had been teaching him the different forms.

"A friend of mine tried dancing with me a while back and I wanted to return the favor," he had explained.

After a few nights, Natasha asked if she knew her by any chance.

Steve had blushed at the thought. "Maybe, not particularly." Or at least she and a certain engineer didn’t speak too much to each other.

He completely forgot he was supposed to offer that dance, before the serum got in the way.

"I'd be lying to you if I said I was okay with this," Steve said, taking her slim hand in his.

"There's a first time for everything."

He nodded and stood with her, mentally checking and rechecking that he was holding her properly.

"The man leads, remember?"

"O-oh, right."

And Steve stepped forward, bringing her along.

Really, he had to admire hers, or heck, any woman's ability to be able to do this backwards and in high heels. He watched the mingling crowds as they turned, catching a few of the glances but nothing major.

Steve did wonder though if Natasha was still leading on purpose, her grip on him firm.

"Do you remember specifics, Captain?"

Steve glanced down and found Natasha looking away. "About the files on board?"

It was vague but Steve understood it to mean the HYDRA ship, the files that she came across. The files that slipped between the cracks of his own situation, yet another thing he should have been on top of.

"Do you have them?" he murmured.

"My room. Took them back from S.H.I.E.L.D."

"Why take them back?"

"A mistake that I know now. They can't be trusted. I know I'm late to Stark's party--" Natasha said before Steve could speak.

"Better late than never," Steve tailored.

He heard Jane's laugher to his right and saw that the two were dancing not too far off. Thor also looked happier, holding Jane close but not enough to hurt, slowly moving to the music.

Steve looked around, wondering where Tony was...

Natasha leaned forward, pressing herself against him but still moving. Steve took the cue and leaned as well, allowing her to speak.

She brushed her lips against his ear.

"The handwriting is identical to Dr. Arnim Zola. Current."

Steve drew in a sharp breath, but otherwise kept stoic. That was all, the information passed like her exhaling, and like that she withdrew.

"Thank you, for the lovely dance," Natasha smiled sweetly before heading off, hair swishing behind her.

But why did she wait to give him that sort of information until they were in a public setting? Even so, regardless of how much time had elapsed between that point and now, Steve still couldn’t believe it. Or maybe he didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want to believe that a man like that, who was responsible for countless atrocities, could still be alive, and the possible physical state he could be in.

Steve fell into the ice and although having suffered damage, the serum kept him alive.

What about Dr. Zola’s case?

But the doctor would explain the Tesseract’s role in HYDRA’s recent plans; that would have been decades of research conducted by one man. Decades of experiments. Decades planning the enslavement of the human race.

Did that mean that HYDRA’s recent plans did not rest in the ocean?

Steve couldn’t help but wonder if Natasha somehow knew about the hit attempt. At this rate, he didn’t feel too certain about anything. She was released from the hospital a week later, still needing bed rest but she wasn’t one for staying down.

Natasha had kept her gaze low when Steve gathered all the Avengers one morning to relay the Natasha’s findings, and give his own speculations. But speculations without solid evidence failed to hold up, and even Steve was beginning to question himself. He was getting sick of hearing himself talk, bringing up something already said and done.

For him, everyone remained on high alert but that was all they could do until something happened.

That had been over a month ago.

 

* * *

 

Steve typed the number into his phone, having seen it every day for almost seven months. He held his breath and made the call.

The phone began to ring, and Steve felt anxious. He thought about this would play out so many times. Now his mind was blank. What would they talk about? What _could_ they talk about? Her file said she never married...

He nearly hung up when on the fourth ring, someone answered.

"Carter residence, Peggy speaking." Although her voice was affected by age it was still the crisp, efficient tone Steve heard the first day of training.

He barely heard himself over his quickened heartbeat. "Peggy, it-it's me, it's--"

"Steve." Her voice softened. "Steve Rogers, or should I say, Captain Rogers?"

His breathing hitched but he kept his voice steady. "Whichever you'd like, Ma'am. Even Captain America, I still use that name."

"Oh so I've heard. You're not as camera shy as you made yourself out to be beforehand."

"Heh, yeah. I um... Actually look like I know what I'm doing."

Peggy laughed, and Steve realized he was grinning ear to ear. There weren't any recent photos in her file, but it was as if she were sitting beside him on that bench.

"You really sound not a day older than mid-twenties. How have you been fairing?"

“I-I’ve been fine. God, I didn’t think we’d meet again like this.”

“I can’t say I did either... Steve, is it really you?”

“It is.” Steve’s grip tightened on his knee to keep it from bouncing so much. “It really is. I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say!” he laughed and was unsure as to why.

“Then let’s start with the basics. I’ve read the reports of your return but I’d prefer a first-hand account.”

“Are you sure? You can go first if you want.”

“Ladies first, Captain? I thought you knew me by now.”

“Or I can go first,” Steve quickly added.

Steve began to explain the things he's encountered since he woke up, all the new noises in the city, how fast everything moves, how tiny the electronics are and how coffee is just more than just cream and sugar. Peggy interjected with thoughtful comments, that it wasn't as alarming since the transition from their time to now was more gradual, a lot smoother. Also, since working with S.H.I.E.L.D. most of her life, she was used to having one foot forward into the future. Steve nodded, making a mental note to ask a little more about the organization.

"I guess it doesn't help too much that I'm also living with Tony, er, Howard's son."

"Yes, I remember meeting him as a child. He was a mouthy little thing, but sharp for his age."

The thought of a young Tony made Steve smile, just him running around in a pair of shorts with grease staining his knees, and a giant wrench in hand.  "Not much changed then, 'cept for a few inches. And a beard of course... He doesn't care for Howard too much but it's funny, how alike they are. He's really a great guy."

He wasn't sure if he meant to say that aloud.

"I'm sure he is," Peggy said.

There was something special about the conversation, something that somehow tethered Steve back. Even though the buildings in the distance were a reminder of the present, a present that he was just getting used to, it was something he could refer back to. Something that he didn't need to be introduced to. Something that filled him with warmth.

What would the cityscape look like when he wakes back up?

“But it’s your turn. Please, tell me as much as you want. I can handle it,” Steve hastily added.

There was a pause but Peggy spoke again, this time to gather her thoughts. She began to relay things to him that the files themselves wouldn’t have told him, the basic but personal lives of all of his comrades.

Instead of settling down, Falsworth continued running missions under the alias “Union Jack”. He and Howard formed a bond since Howard’s weapons did need a test dummy, and Falsworth had the humor to try it.

Morita also went on missions after the war but he was still pretty reckless. Turned out he wasn’t killed in action, but because of alcohol poisoning due to a bet at a Russian tavern. He did win the bet though.

Jones and Dernier rented out a place together in the countryside, helping out from time to time but they chose the quieter life. Peggy didn’t explicitly say it but Steve got the feeling that they ended up being more than just good friends after all, and he asked her to pause as he took that little detail in.

Dugan quit going on missions and got married, had a couple kids, and lived a quiet, happy life. He always had photos to share with them all, whenever they met up.

They made an effort to meet up from time to time, some occasions easier than others. Colonel Phillip’s funeral. Howard’s funeral. But their fallback was the same day every year, in the bar where they had toasted to Cap’s sacrifice and ultimate victory. They all lived happy lives.

Steve took it all in with a heavy heart but a peace of mind. The story of it all lulled him a calmness he couldn’t explain, a sadness that didn’t hurt so much. It used to, but it had been reduced to a faint ebbing in his chest.

He hadn’t even realized the line went silent until Peggy spoke again.

“Steve?”

"I'm here." His tone was soft, on the edge of sleep. He quickly sat up in a moment of panic. He opened his mouth to speak but he didn't know what to say. The walkway stretched out before him and began to tilt, trying to trick him into falling. He gripped the edge of his seat and shut his eyes, trying to force the vertigo away.

"Did you ever learn to dance?" Peggy echoed.

"Sort of, I mean…” It needed to stop. His head was swimming, his vision blurred. There was something he was forgetting to mention, something on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t remember. He was slipping over the edge and the descent was a long way down, into the blue, into darkness.

Someone was calling to him, a voice bubbling to the surface. Echoing in and out of focus, Peggy was at the top, out of reach. 

"Did you wait?" he heard himself ask.

Steve ran his fingers down his face, forcing himself to stare at the ground and focus, focus on Peggy. On what she was saying, on what was happening now, and the world started to slowly level out.

"I did, for a while."

She didn’t question him further, thank God. "But I was occupied with work, and the war. Then when the war had passed, Howard began the framework for a Strategic Homeland- I mean S.H.I.E.L.D., I never really did have time for myself... One day I realized, the maternal lifestyle was not for me."

"I have no regrets," Peggy tacked on at the end.

"Yeah." His voice faded off as the world began to blur out of focus. He squinted his eyes shut, gripping the bench in a forceful way to keep grounded. “Makes sense.” He quickened his breathing, trying to will some adrenaline because the last thing he wanted was to pass out in Central Park with Peggy on the phone.

Just how he remembered, Peggy never missed a beat. "Is something the matter?"

There was. Too much that threatened to spill out of him if he wasn't in control. Then again, was he ever really have control? He gripped his knee, keeping himself firmly on the ground.

"Yes. I mean no, there isn't. I'm fine, I just need to get going..." The sun was up and more people were strolling through the park. He needed to get back to the Tower before anyone asked where he was. But Peggy was concerned already, and he didn't know what to say. "I need to get going." But he didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay with the Avengers. He didn't want to be in the ice again. It was selfish and he was sorry for it but already he was losing his bearings and he couldn't take having to start all over again.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Steve heard Peggy say.

"Excuse me?"

"Your apology. There's no need for it. You're too hard on yourself, Steve. Always have been."

Steve shrugged a shoulder then realized she couldn't see it. "I didn't mean to, I mean--"

"You didn't mean to save millions of lives just to keep your date with one person?"

And he would have done it again in a heartbeat. It’s who Steve wanted to be, a man who was strong enough to take the hits, to protect the people he cared about. To do good for his country. The serum was supposed to make him that man, and for a dream period he really was a guy people could rely on, the guy that would pull through regardless of hit after hit knocking him back down.

Yet he never felt so far from that dream, so helpless. Captain America had fallen and he couldn’t pull himself together, like he was unraveling in his own hands. He couldn’t be there for the public, for his team. He couldn’t even help himself. Steve Rogers was too weak to bring him back.  And it was all on him, no one else could do it but him, but he didn’t know how. The collision was too strong, knocking him back and ripping the heat from his bones.

He didn’t know how to get back up.

"Steve?"

He was covering his face, trying to keep himself together but he couldn’t stop shaking. 

"I'm here." Steve swallowed heavily before repeating himself as firmly as he could. "I'm here.”

“I know it’s a tad late to ask but… Would you still go dancing with me, one day?”

“Yes,” he answered a little too quickly. “I’d like that.”

“Good.” Her tone was a blade in an open wound. “Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

“Alright. I love you, Peggy.” The words left him before Steve realized what he said, but after they did he understood what they meant. The romance of it was gone, the spark in his chest on meeting Agent Carter on the training fields transformed into something calming. Something familiar but not passionate, something like loving a sister if he ever had one.

“I love you too,” Peggy responded.

They said their goodbyes, and Steve clutched his phone even after they hung up. The city across the lake blurred before him and he couldn't help but wonder what it might look like in a century from now.

Who might his teammates be in the future, if he ended up with any teammates at all? If S.H.I.E.L.D. was still standing, who might be in charge by then? He would have to get used to the technology all over again even though he just started to get the hang of Tony's equipment...

Maybe there will be another Stark for Steve to speak to.

He had to stop walking to catch his breath, to keep his heart from hurting. But the pain didn't go away and he felt ready to vomit.

He was downright sick to his stomach thinking of Tony being married to someone else. But it wasn't right for Steve to think that way, because Tony deserved to be happy. When he was with Steve he seemed happy enough, but if Steve wasn't going to be around for much longer, then what? But it wasn't like they were any more than friends, the few months they did have together was nice but nothing indicated that Tony even swung that way--

God, why was Steve thinking about this now?

Even with Bruce helping out they still spent long nights in the lab, and Steve has been sleeping longer hours just to feel normal. He hasn't seen them that much, hasn't seen Tony at all as of late...

He missed him.

He’s missed him for a while now, but whenever Steve went to check up on him Tony was too engrossed in his work, or on the brink of unconsciousness. It felt like a double-edged sword, Tony being too busy with the super serum to speak to Steve.

And then there was Bruce. Really, Steve was grateful that Dr. Banner showed up, and the minor injections he created to stave off the suspended animation had come in handy. But it wasn’t a cure, and weeks later the serum began rejecting the temporary supplement.

Just, he couldn’t help but feel irritated whenever he thought of how much time Bruce was getting with Tony.

He couldn't take how depressed he felt but he couldn't turn his mind off. What kind of person was he turning into?

Steve didn't want to go back to the tower, at least not yet. He felt restless, legs wanting to keep moving while his fingers twitched. He shoved his hands in his pockets, wishing he could grip the strap of the shield, or the sleek, cool surface. Simple. Familiar. Solid.

He sent Natasha a text message, saying that he was fine and that he went out for a walk. He figured she was the least inclined to ask questions. Thor was still learning to use his phone, Bruce needed a replacement, Clint left his in places and Steve didn't want to wake Tony up if he was unconscious somewhere in his lab.

The message he got back was short and to the point: "K. Take care of yourself."

Steve hoped he could promise that much. "Thanks Miss Romanoff. :)" 

"We've been around each other long enough. Call me Natasha or I'll condition you."

"Right, sorry! Thanks, Natasha."

"You're welcome Steve. :)"

He wouldn't say the Avengers were close, but they were comfortable around one another. They grew to understand each other's habits, mannerisms, sleeping patterns and quirks. Like they were a team in more than just the word. Which is all the more reason that it wasn't fair to them, Steve wandering around outside. He was putting himself at risk, a mess that they would have to clean up 'cause of him. At the same time it made him all the more frustrated.

Down the street he recognized the diner he used to go to, the one he hardly visited nowadays even after the HYDRA attack--

Was Beth still working there? Was she doing alright? Guilt hit him like an ice bath, he should have checked up on her, especially with after how after S.H.I.E.L.D. handled the situation.

Steve quickened his pace, getting there faster than he anticipated. There weren't as many pedestrians out today, even though it was a very nice day out. In fact, it was quieter than usual, not as many cars or people, or noise.

The restaurant was also emptier than usual. Steve didn't see Beth, or a lot of the other staff members. When he did get a hold of a waiter, he said that business had been slower than average so the extra help wasn't needed. As for Beth, she hadn't been in for weeks.

Was it possible that S.H.I.E.L.D. still detained her? And what about the other victims?

When Steve was back outside he pulled out his phone and dialed Tony's number because this might be worth reporting, despite him already doubting himself. It took him a few tries, his hands were shaking and he was hitting the wrong buttons, and his damn vision was beginning to blur again--

"Captain Rogers."

Steve recognized the voice before looking up. "Phil!" That didn't mean he controlled the shock in his voice. "What are you doing here?"

Phil blinked, watching him with that usual stoic expression. "I was sent out to survey the area. We have reason to believe that the city may get a little... chaotic in under a few hours."

Steve nodded, filling in the details to Phil's vague statement. "You guys have a lead?" He shoved his phone in his pocket. "How'd you find out? How are you handling it?"

"I can explain in a more private setting," Phil said, stepping forward. "As for right now, I must insist that I escort you out of the area. If you don't mind me saying--" Phil's tone faltered just a bit "--If our predictions are correct then it wouldn't be safe for you to stay here. You'll be safer at S.H.I.E.L.D."

Steve nodded and the two headed off, to one of the black vans he associates the organization with. Probably straight to the base itself, the vans were parked every couple in a given block.

He wondered how incognito Phil could be in his usual suit.

"What areas are you monitoring?" How were they preparing for this attack and what exactly was the attack?

Without looking back Phil said, "We have agents dispatched throughout Manhattan, on an aerial, ground, and subway levels. We are extending our surveillance to the other districts, as well as the coastline. We'll see HYDRA before they realize."

"Glad to hear it." Especially that S.H.I.E.L.D. was really pulling all the stops. It made Steve's head hurt a little less. It was a comforting thought, and a little terrifying he had to admit, how much control the organization had. "Did you alert the Avengers?"

"Not yet. We didn't want to contact them until we're certain of the attack. Orders from Director Fury."

Steve glanced over at Phil with a furrowed brow. "But they can help track HYDRA, and cover more ground than the Agents--"

"As I've said before Captain Rogers, we have control over the situation."

"You mean like the previous attacks?" It left his mouth before he could filter himself.

Phil's grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"I'm sorry." Steve rubbed his temples, exhaustion a knot at the side of his head. "There's just some questions that I wish I had the answer to."

"I understand." And Phil did sound sorry.  "The Director has been tied up with everything happening, but I'm sure he'll explain once we arrive--"

The van lurched to the side as an explosive detonated on the road yards from where they were. Phil swerved to the side and accelerated as smoke and dust blocked out their vision from behind. Phil's handheld sprung to life, static and frantic voices calling out orders and coordinates. He kept a hand on the steering wheel as he demanded the condition of the agents in the area, the van barreling down the street.

Steve's mind reeled even further as the car was rocked and shards of ice hit the dashboard. He caught the gleam of battle armor behind building windows, the glint of barrels aiming for them.

"I need a weapon!"

"Glove compartment," Phil inserted between orders.

Steve put his window down and pulled the handheld out, clicked off the safety and began to shoot. Soldiers were flooding out of the buildings as they sped past and he aimed for the ones aiming for them. The immediate threats were priority with his limited ammo. His aim wasn't the best, bullets hitting limbs instead of vitals, the whine of them bouncing off of armor. Steve pulled back in the window right as the heat of a round seared his cheek. He needed to be more careful, dizziness returning in waves and he couldn't count all of the soldiers. His limbs were shaking and his own thoughts became difficult to understand... He could have sworn he was hearing classical music in the back of his head.

"Phil..." Steve's tone shook. "We need to call the Avengers."

"We will. We're heading into the base now." Phil entered a garage as identical van after van sped out of the opposing gates. Steve set his gun down and sat back, trying to regulate his breathing. He felt cold, joints growing rigid, and a thought hit him hard: What if today was the day he fell out of time?

The light of his cellphone pierced the spots before his eyes as he dialed Tony's number. All Steve could hear was his own breathing as the van dipped into a tunnel he didn't notice before, the lights framing the ground, light after light after light, made him nauseated.

It cut straight to voicemail after a ring. No service.

"How are you holding up, Captain Rogers?" Phil asked. They weren't moving anymore, Steve's door was open.

"I'll tell you when the world stops spinning..."

Phil helped him out of the car and Steve was about to thank him, when he caught the solid outlines of black shoes aways from them. Steve lifted his head and saw them, all of the soldiers with their guns pointed right at them, the HYDRA emblems catching the light.

"HYDRA--"

That was when something sharp jammed into the back of his neck.

"Is here," Phil said.

An empty syringe in his hand.

Even if cold didn’t seize his lungs he’d be speechless, ice circulating through his veins.

Paralyzing him.

Plunging him into darkness, the last thing registering was the phone spiraling away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, exactly 5,000 words! 
> 
> Alright, Chapter 8 is definitely coming but it's just a matter of when. I may have to rewrite the entire thing because I don't remember liking the way it came out all too much, but I can guarantee a lot of action.
> 
> Thanks for sticking around this far, three more chapters to go! :D


	9. Minor Disturbance

Tony woke up to a pair eyes hovering inches from his face. Needless to say that he shrieked a completely manly shriek and swung at it with the first object within reach.

"Yow!” Barton fell sideways, the clang rattling his pupils. Served him right. “Stark what the fuck--"

Tony jabbed at him behind his converted weapon of choice, which appropriately, was Cap’s shield prototype. "No, that's my fuck to take not yours. Why were you there? Where's Bruce?” His eyes darted around. “He should be guarding my body."

"I was making some tea." And there the Science Bro was, standing by the staircase. He was stirring the contents in his Hulk-shaped mug, which Tony made sure to buy for him the day after his arrival. "Clint snuck in here while I was out, I'm taking."

Across the lab, Tony heard a hearty chuckle. “Thor, why did you let Clint ravage my body?” He massaged his temples, feeling a headache coming on already.

“I was not aware Friend Clint did such things!” Thor said, grin broad. Jane hadn’t stirred from her fixated pose, staring at her laptop while chewing on her lower lip. “Perhaps I’ll be more vigilant next time.”

“Yeah, up the vigilance.” Tony felt the shield leave his hands. “Barton, why?”

"You ever going to finish this?" Barton held it up. Tony didn’t mean to, but with every project afterward taking precedence, and then of course meeting Captain America himself, he sort of forgot. It was recently recovered due to the feng shui kick of having too many people in his lab and things constantly rearranging themselves.

The shield sparked a glimmer of a dream in Tony's head. Something about Cap and that dorky smile, and skin. A lot of skin… And sweat… And then nothing.

“Barton, your face scared the dream out of me.” Tony plowed Clint's face with more shield.

"Friend Tony!" Thor thundered across the lab. "If Friend Hawk has faced ample patriotic justice, may the lovely Jane and myself speak to you?"

"Yeah." Again with multiple people seeking refuge in his lab. To be fair the astrologist was welcome but Thor and Barton made him anxious. He liked partying as much as the next billionaire but not in his lab, his thinking space, like everything was made of glass and they came in swinging baseball bats. Or hammers. At this rate the only ones missing were Romanoff (yeah that was a party) and Cap, who doesn’t come down too much.

Or much at all, unless Bruce needed him.

Behind Jane were boards of scribbled equations, a diagram of the Tesseract in the center of it all.

She mumbled something inaudible, not aware that she was being watched by both Thor and Tony.

"What was that, Jane?" Thor coaxed.

"You and I both heard from S.H.I.E.L.D., right? The device that HYDRA was using to control people was destroyed in the explosion.” Jane’s eyes flickered up to Tony. “Right?”

“A month and three days ago, yep. Made official,” Tony said. Steve had made sure to confirm that with Agent.

Jane bit her lower lip, eyes skimming across the screen as another confirmation. “Then why am I getting active readings of it?” she said.

"Um, not possible,” Clint piped up. “We sunk their battleship, which means the signal was destroyed.”

“Was the device itself specifically destroyed?” Bruce traced the rim of his mug, focused on the contents inside. A nervous habit, meaning he’s anxious. Tony was anxious too, it felt like indigestion. Were their anxieties, and therefore thought processes correlating? “Or was the safe thing to assume since the explosion looked like it did the job?”

“They had the choice to blow up an entire ship, meaning it was replaceable,” Tony mumbled, and suddenly certainty was out the window. Dammit. “That, or all valuable cargo made it off board.”

“Here’s a better question,” Bruce said. “Has anyone listened to the radio lately?” 

Dammit dammit _dammit._

 “JARVIS, search all the radio stations. The more main stream the higher the priority.” How easy was it to believe that HYDRA had crawled back into their base and accepted defeat? Steve warned them about this cult, that they shouldn’t be taken lightly, but really who would’ve remembered that when they always came mindlessly barreling into battle?

"I never saw the device, at least while I was working in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s labs. But look at this.” Jane turned her monitor around, showing the frequency charted down. It was faint but still detected, and it took Tony a second for him to realize that Jane had been scrolling. The lines were constant, and she was still scrolling.

“How many hours?” Tony said.

“Fifteen,” Jane turned the laptop back around, “Fifteen hours-- Wait. That’s wrong.”

“Wrong by how much!? JARVIS--”

“I am moving at top performance Sir. The signal has been located but the station’s security has been heavily fortified.”

“A fortified station?” Clint just about laughed, “Fortified from what? Leaking the latest pop trends?”

“Tony, be careful.” Bruce pushed up his glasses. “If that’s our culprit then no telling what may lurk behind their defenses.”

“Decryption at 38%,” JARVIS said.

“It’s been days.” Jane’s voice was barely above a whisper, eyes wide. “This signal has been playing near nonstop.”

The lab got that much quieter.

“Sure as hell got it handled,” Clint mumbled.

“Barton--" Tony rounded onto the sniper. "The hell is Fury doing, or not doing in his airship?!" Because it wasn’t that the signals were going undetected, but that no one was keeping track of it. They all, completely irresponsible to say, but they all forgot? Didn’t think of it. Assumed everything might be okay? Well with Steve’s countdown coming to its final points, what were they supposed to think about?!

But Tony was a genius, how did he let it slip? Meanwhile no one was thinking of HYDRA-- Enough, concentrate on what they were currently up against.

"He said he had it taken care of, which I know is bull," Clint added at Tony's eye roll, "So I spoke to Phil about it--"

“Decryption at 63%.”

"You went to Fury's good eye.” Tony didn’t even bother hiding the sarcasm. “Did you speak to Hill too 'cause that would make just as much sense."

Clint stepped forward, now full on scowling. “Phil works for Fury but he isn't mindless. He knew something was off with S.H.I.E.L.D.--"

“Or maybe something’s off with him.” Tony shrugged.

“The fuck does that even mean?”

“Wait.” Bruce stood up, bracing his hands on the desk. “Tony might have something there--”

“Decryption at 97% Sir,” JARVIS stated when sharp static pierced the room. Tony yelped and ducked down, clamping his hands against his ears. He shouted for JARVIS, for an update on whatever was happening he couldn’t even hear himself think, yet alone hear a response.

All of the monitors in the lab went black. He was counter hacked. Crap. Seconds, he had seconds before possible meltdown-

Tony moved for a computer right as classical music filled the room.

The static seeped between his fingers, into his ears. Sparks of blue lightning skittered across his vision, and a sharp pain erupted in his head like a plunging knife. He flinched, a violation through the senses, then calm washed over him like cool water and he was frozen. A blue haze over the eyes, a dream state…?

Tony felt his chest spasm and the film faded with a simultaneous shatter. Like breaking water’s surface, he took in in huge gulps of air. Specifically ice water; he was numb and freezing all over.

"JARVIS, turn-turn off the signal!" He said through a wave of nausea, feeling unraveled if that even made sense. Hell, what _was_ that?

No response.

“Jane? Can you hear me? Jane!”

Tony stumbled but turned toward his teammates. Clint stood there stock still while Thor shook an unresponsive Jane. Bruce was out of sight. Tony’s monitors weren’t fried, but he wished they were. Anything was better compared to what were on the screens. 

The screens were black like motor oil, and hovering against the backdrop was HYDRA’s emblem, dark and dripping of blood.  

If Tony wasn’t disoriented he’d claim that his reactor shuddered. It was what saved him before when Reindeer Games tried to control him and what kept him afloat now, against the dull throbbing in the back of his head. JARVIS wasn't responding. He'd have to reboot his entire system.

“Crap, stop, the head computer… Restart--” Was the music growing in volume--

And the main computer exploded into glass and sparks when Mjolnir plowed through it.

"The signal has been stopped," Thor stated, and yeah, it was so.

"JARVIS," Tony cleared his throat, trying not to vomit from the shock of his beautiful but destroyed machine, and just shock. "Still alive, buddy?"

"Indeed,” JARVIS said, and Tony sighed in relief. “Minor disturbance. Scanning files now. No traces of hijacking found."

"Was I just..." Jane squeaked, looking ready to fold on herself. "That was... weird..."

"You are alright now." Thor took her by the shoulders and kissed her forehead. The color came back to her fast.

Clint groaned and propped himself against a countertop, legs shaking. "Yeah, that was the Tesseract."

There was a crash by Bruce’s station. The table was sideways, flasks and instruments scattered across the floor.

“Bruce?” Tony found him on the floor, doubled over. Breathing labored. Unresponsive.

Clothes ripping at the seams.

Tony’s escaped mind rape thanks to his reactor. By that logic, Bruce’s escape had to be--

“Shit, Thor, get Banner outside!”

Thor summoned recalled his hammer before hurling it through one of the workshop walls. As he flew out into the city with Bruce, Tony bit his tongue to hold back the unfiltered shout. Poor, _poor_ lab.

“Dammit.” Clint had himself propped up against a counter, free hand typing punching buttons on his phone. “Phil why aren’t you answering?”

“JARVIS, where did that signal come from?” Tony’s mind was racing too fast to properly think, trying to look at not just the present but five steps ahead. He was caught off guard and now catching up felt weighted with handicaps on his ankles. “Where’s Romanoff? Why isn’t Agent answering? Why hasn’t Cap come down yet?”

Sirens shattered his thoughts, shattered yet again, and then he remembered the open window Thor so kindly renovated.

Jane shrieked when Clint leaned over the edge, which made him whirl around ready for an assault.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, “Just be careful!”

“Not the last time Barton teetered over an edge,” Tony said, hand to his head. Jane should not be here, not now that a possible attack could be underway. But where would be safer than Stark’s Tower? Steve’s brain needed to be here now.

“The signal came from S.H.I.E.L.D.’s headquarters,” JARVIS said.

“You mean the under S.H.I.E.L.D.’s headquarters,” Tony said, yet part of him accepted this as fact. Fact of what, he wasn’t entirely sure. “As in not the base of the supposed good guys.”

“As in exactly within the base,” JARVIS firmly stated.

Clint whirled around and took a few steps forward, mouth open but without words. A slower mental process? Or difficulty understanding the gravity of their situation? Tony couldn’t blame him; even he was getting angsty just thinking of the implications. “So the device,” Clint slowly said, “Was somehow activated within S.H.I.E.L.D. whether they know or not.”

“Of course they’d know, how could they miss the signal in their own base?”

“I don’t know!... I don’t know.” Clint scrubbed his face with the pads of his fingers, like he was trying to uncover the answer himself. Like he had an explanation as to how an entire organization set on protecting people, had suddenly switched sides. Or was “suddenly” the right word to use?

Clint did a double take through the makeshift window, staring long and hard down below. Long being a couple seconds. When satisfied he turned back to them, though he didn’t look any less confused. “HYDRA’s down there. No S.H.I.E.L.D. agents.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Hulk’s down there and pissed. Thor’s trying to contain all of it.”

“HYDRA? I need visuals.” At once a smaller monitor came to life, a live feed from a traffic light at one of the intersections. The soldiers in black were at it again but in droves, storming through the streets. Various heights, meaning civilians. Machine guns at the ready. Armor reinforced, dark in color. Faces shielded by helmets.

The camera shook as well as the whole tower, from the Hulk’s distant roar.

“Miss Romanoff was here but that was before the interference. I cannot locate her,” JARVIS said. Tony was beginning to feel conditioned to flinch whenever the AI spoke. 

“Not here?” Barton turned, eyes slightly wider. “We shut off the signal. You don’t think she’s still compromised-”

“-And she rushed into the fray. A possibility.” Tony spun another monitor around and brought up all tower surveillance from before everything was offline.

Behind him, Tony heard Clint sprint up the stairs.

Not that he abuses it, but Tony can pull up recordings of every room in the Tower. His fingers darted across the screen as he pulled up Romanoff’s room, scrolling back to fifteen minutes before the assault. Nothing. Ten minutes was empty too, fast forward to seven and she’s there and undressing.

Fast forward: a few minutes ago, in full cat suit. 

With Tony’s Starkpad in hand.

Zoom in.

Decryptions. His firewalls.

_“And you are assuming the opposite, Stark.”_ Tony recalled the initial debriefing, the day he signed his sanity away by allowing the Avengers to stay in the Tower. That gleam in Romanoff’s eye still drove him up a wall. _“…By believing that you are too powerful to be toppled over in an instant. Though miniscule the opportunity still exists, and if there is an opportunity to be taken advantage of, they will take it.”_

And Romanoff was that miniscule opportunity, along with his own careless mistakes. Little mistakes that were snowballing into something large and increasingly problematic.

“Son of a bitch--!”

“As for your third question,” JARVIS interrupted his building tantrum, “Captain Rogers is not here.”

Words, Tony could not find words. Fortunately, Jane asked the question for him. “Not here? Where could he be?”

“I was told not to disclose his whereabouts, but due to the given circumstances,” JARVIS quickly corrected when Tony full on hollered, “I will go against his wishes. Captain Rogers was on his way to the park.”

“And where is he now?” Why would Cap disclose that? Tony flicked Romanoff’s frame to the side and honed in on Steve’s room. Empty. He backtracked until he found him up, dressed and heading out the door, passing his shield on the way out. 

In Cap’s current state he shouldn’t be leaving the tower at all, and he should know that. Especially with Tony’s sanity in the balance.

“His phone is untraceable,” JARVIS said.

“No it’s not.” Not with HYDRA parading below, not when a symbol of America was epileptic.

“There was an attempted call from Captain Rogers,” JARVIS added, “While the system was rebooting.”

“Messages?”

“None have been detected.”

“Stark, we have to get going.” Hawk reentered the room even swifter than his exit. “ ‘Tasha’s not-”

“-Here. Neither is Cap.” Which was a permanent vice on his stomach. Tony shoved his anxiety into the back of his mind and sealed it shut because what kind of hero would panic under pressure? This was no different, just that Steve was missing, that was all. The _only_ difference.

His hands wouldn’t stop shaking.  

“W-wait! What should I do?” Jane said.

Tony glanced between the two; both held expectations for him, it was all in their eyes. They didn’t know what to do, and Tony already had to work quadruple speed to cover any bases he missed by being too consumed with a certain super serum. Now he had to think for the team, they needed a leader right?

If they continued without thoroughly covering bases, they were going to lose.

Shut Steve out. Fix everything, which will eventually lead to Steve.

Focus.

“Find a way to shut down the signal,” Tony said to Jane, voice tailored. “Those aren’t soldiers, and the sooner we break them out of the signal, the quicker they get to safety.” But he felt like he was moving at negative quadruple, just to keep everyone in the loop. To be a team leader he had to keep everyone in mind at all times. Stay on the same page.

“Barton, suit up.” Tony met the archer’s eyes. Barton nodded and left again.

“Tony?” Jane was already at a computer, but he could feel her stare in his back while he moved for his suit.

“Yes, astronomer?”

“Are you okay?” There wasn’t any snark behind that question, her tone was honest enough. She seemed genuinely worried for him, and really Tony had the urge to respond with just as much honesty.

Tony settled with, “That’s what the armor’s for, ain’t it?”

Focus.

Tony ordered JARVIS to reinforce the feed on the communicators to prevent any further mind rape. Jane and Hawk were online, he needed to get an ear piece to Thor.

The streets were in full on riot by the time he suited up, but that wasn’t the alarming part. What was pertained to the uniforms, because they weren’t strictly HYDRA. Some soldiers were nowhere near armor clad but moved with the same uniformity as the rest, like they were all the same unit.

S.H.I.E.L.D. and HYDRA emblems all shining in the sun.

“So S.H.I.EL.D. and HYDRA are one in the same?” Tony thought aloud.

“Looks like,” Barton said, bow in one hand, other in Tony’s. Not the most badass way to travel but it had to make due. Hawk in a jet just didn’t make sense especially since he was one man traveling. 

Down below was Thor and Hulk, the surrounding dented cars and blown sidewalk indicators of their brawl. Bruce had unwillingly hulked out; the chance of him assisting him was slim when he wasn’t in the right mind. With Jane working on that signal, maybe they’d gain the upper hand. Bring him to his senses. 

Barton shouted as Tony arced into a sharp dive, right into the fray. “A warning would be nice, Stark!”

“Going down.”

In his descent the HUD locked onto nearby building windows before the rain of bullets commenced. Tony shot one-handed on low setting; incapacitate, not maim. Hawk shot at whoever stood near Thor and Hulk’s brawl before they were noticed. Nets expanded on contact, snaring them and all those in proximity.

They landed right as Thor swung the Hulk into a nearby building.

“Thor, status update!” Tony exclaimed over the boom.

Thor turned to them, the god’s mane tangled, blood smearing his lip. “Friend Bruce refuses to be reasoned with in this state!” he said, slightly winded.

“Then drop him off in a less crowded setting. We need you,” Tony said. He handed off the communicator before the rubble began to shake.

“What is our plan? How is Jane, and where are the other members of our team?” Thor’s hammer landed in his hand as a roar shook the building. Hulk came barreling out, lunging straight for him.

“Tell him I’m fine,” Jane said over the com, “I can hear him just fine.”

“Jane’s good, Cap’s missing, ‘Tasha’s under the cube’s influence,” Barton listed before Thor advanced, hammer raised.

“Then we must locate the Good Captain and rescue Fair Widow!” Thor exclaimed with a mighty echo. He tackled the Hulk in what could only be described as a collision with a bus.

The odd part? Tony could have sworn that Thor was the bus.

Or at least it was Thor who slammed into Hulk, if they were getting technical. Either way, they both drove into the sidewalk, concrete gone airborne.

“Stark we gotta go,” Barton said.

“Got it, Thor you got this--”

The Hulk plucked Thor off and flung him like a ragdoll before turning his attention to them. Thor smashed into a nearby building, and judging by the sound of the collision he’d be down for a bit.

“… Handled.” Fuck.

Tony grabbed Barton and kicked into an ascent as the Hulk closed the gap with massive strides.

**_“What did bird man say?”_** Hulk… said? Well, more of growled, no, snarled, or more of the point was that he spoke overall. That he was coherent enough to actually process what they were saying, and was able to form a response. The voice was deep, gravely with all levels of bass, but still coherent.

“W-Whoa, what?” Clint stammered, jaw slack. So Tony didn’t imagine the Hulk speaking.  

Hulk reared forward and bellowed at them both, the echo rattling the suit as well as Tony’s brain. Setting off nearby car alarms. Reverberating off into the city.

“Jane’s good!” Barton shouted back, just as angry but not as intimidating. “Cap’s missing. Natasha needs saving! Dammit!”

The Hulk stood there, face contorted in what Tony could only describe as contemplating. The fact that they were even having a conversation with him meant that he came to his senses for reasons unknown. Or maybe he recognized he had teammates, or friends - if he was sentimental like that.

Tony dared take the chance to survey the area. Soldiers still avoided them like the plague thanks to Hulk, but they were getting ballsy. Foot by foot they were closing the gap, fingers ready on the trigger. But the majority’s attention was on the perimeter set up by the police down the street; there had to be the bulk of the attack. An attack between brainwashed civilians and the police that didn’t get that memo.

Cap utilizes the police in these situations. Noted.

The wreckage on Thor blew apart and the god leapt forward, ready to bring the hammer down.

“Fear not friends!” he exclaimed, “For I have the situation under control--”

Like Hulk even heard Thor. **_“Hulk will help.”_**

“What?” Tony and Clint said in unison. Thor caught himself before the hammer was brought down and he crashed to the ground in a graceless tumble.

**_“Hulk not repeat self,”_** the Hulk growled. **_“What Hulk do?”_**

“Y-yeah. Call it, Stark,” Hawkeye said, turning to him.

Well for whatever reason that brought the Hulk back, Tony could scrutinize later.  They were all waiting on him after all.

Here goes nothing.

“Someone needs to stay with the police in case any oversized vehicles roll out. Hulk, stay on that and keep the soldiers in line, as in kick their ass but be gentle, okay? Cool. Thor, you’re on PR. Tell the police to not shoot, relay all the information we got about the radios. Media’s going to be all over this soon, last thing we need is them transferring the signal over TVs. Hawk and I are heading to S.H.I.E.L.D. JARVIS, keep searching for Cap’s phone. Untracable my ass. Then help get Jane into S.H.I.E.L.D.’s system. We have to override the radio waves.”

“Indeed.” Thor nodded, brushed off his cape, and flew off.

Hulk turned toward the soldiers and hunched forward before sprinting toward them, ground cracking beneath every step.

“Let’s go then.” Barton held out his hand, not sparing Tony a glance. Everything about him was tense. Tony couldn’t blame him, he was reminded of this when their hands didn’t lock like magnets.

The hold wasn’t right, the hand was smaller.

Tony had to manually remind himself to breathe.

Focus.

“Anything yet, Jane?” Tony said. The ground appeared animated due to all the soldiers in the streets.

Just as he anticipated, helicopters flew past them, straight into the danger.

“Not yet. HYDRA’s system merged with S.H.I.E.L.D.’s network, and they all have firewalls specifically armed against us.”

“Is there not a way to destroy their infernal walls?” Thor interjected.

“Not if someone’s rebuilding them.” Tony swerved to the right, narrowly avoiding the onslaught of bullets from a nearby building.

“Think it’s Nat?” Hawkeye said.

“Wouldn’t doubt it.” He could see it now, Romanoff hiding out in one of the offices, undoing all the progress Jane made, quicker than Jane could make it. Romanoff could encrypt circles around Jane; hell it was Romanoff who taught Jane the little tricks she knew in their downtime. “We should track her too--”

“We are receiving interference, Sir.” JARVIS’s feed blipped, fading in and out of Tony’s ears. “The line is rogue.”

And before Tony could brace himself, for what, another round of classical music? a familiar director to this madhouse barked over the line, “Stark! Do you copy?”

Tony blasted open the entrance gates, as well as the surrounding foundation. “Was wondering when you’d join the party,” Tony said, voice clipped.

 “Careful guys.” Clint didn’t bother hiding his anger. “Director, you gonna hypnotize us too?”

“Now I did not just hack my own compromised system, then HYDRA’s, and then Stark’s to hear your ass, Barton. We have a situation.”

The easiest entrance: underneath the garage. S.H.I.E.L.D. had its own building with conventional entrances, but Hawk dangling at his side was a gigantic target. Ironically. “Yeah. Got that. S.H.I.E.L.D.’s working with HYDRA, willingly or by hostile takeover, lame opera music, what exactly _is_ going on?”

“Director Fury.” Thor was on the line, gunshots and explosions springing to life in the background. “How do we know if you are under your own will or not?”

Silence. Then: “From our previous dealings with the Tesseract, I can’t prove that. What I can tell you is that I am in a closet with a computer and claustrophobia is the bane of my existence. But I have information that you can take or ignore.” A second lapsed and Fury tacked on in a tone Tony couldn’t categorize, “I wouldn’t blame you for ignoring it though.”

Tony set Hawkeye down and the two ceased moving. Hawkeye snapped his blow into place, and despite the rough motion and the pained expression, he said nothing. All they heard was the Hulk roaring in the background.

“It couldn’t hurt to hear,” Tony heard himself say.  “Go for it.”

“HYDRA has succeeded in a not so hostile takeover since most to if not all my men are compromised. They are planning on sending their frequencies through which ever channel is broadcasting the situation in Manhattan. Everyone will be tuning into this epidemic. Either block or turn off the signal, and avoid hurting as many innocents as you can.”

At least they were all in sync.  “Got it,” Tony said, closing his thoughts off as much as possible to avoid the pressure of it all.

“Wait. Sir, do you know where Agent Coulson is?”

“Last I knew, heading to the East Wing. That’s before the signal turned on, according to my readings.” Fury’s tone wasn’t cutting, actually kind of soft. “The signal’s constantly streaming through our lines, which we have access to through our headsets. It’s a complete fluke that Agent Coulson took mine beforehand.”

“What? Wait, so did Phil know--”

Fury’s signal cut out.

“Can you pinpoint the signal, Stark?” Clint turned to him.

“JARVIS, get on that. You guys heard Patchy; destroy any headsets you come across. Thor, keep steering reporters from the scene. Jane, contact anyone with a camera and tell them to GTFO.”

“Let’s go then.” Barton said. He removed the air vent cover on the lower wall and slid through.

“You know the agents better than anyone. If you can’t access the headsets, do some recalibrating.” Tony made himself an entrance by blasting through one of the walls; fuck conventional hallways.

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” Barton said over their feed.

 The room over happened to be filled with agents and HYDRA members, their uniforms near identical.

“Whoops. Carry on.” Tony blasted off as the bullets came flying for him. He lowered the frequency of his repulsors, as well as all the weaponized tools on his arsenal. Now with not much higher than a static shock the HUD targeted all the head sets. In a clean sweep overhead he shot away, shorting every last one - and shocking some agents.

He made it to the next hall when JARVIS said, “I have located Captain Rogers’ phone, Sir. It is within S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“The hell.” Tony froze and whirled around, as if Cap was waving down the hall.

_Here?_

In this building crawling with these brainwashed agents, or the ones who are anti-America? Tony needed to find him… No, Steve would punch him if he didn’t save the world first.

“Can you get a visual on his phone?”

Or maybe he should find him, he could use the backup, dammit, why would Cap even come here to begin with? Because he had no idea about the infestation, although now mentioned it was blatantly obvious. Too obvious, Tony mentally pummeled himself. But Cap; he might have come here, injured from the outside attacks, barely conscious and seeking shelter, and--

Focus.

Tony continued moving. He avoided the chaos happening below, which was its own separate battle between HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D., agents and HYDRA soldiers, bullets bouncing off the walls and grenades flying every which way. He couldn’t kill agents, but he could of course damage HYDRA. Judging by their heights and builds, they were standard soldiers. Not civilians.

And Tony really needed to hurt something right now.

He upped the repulsors and went to town, destroying machineguns and blasting all the weak spots of the soldiers’ armor. All were down, and the agents lowered their pistols to cheer Iron Man on. Their voices faded fast because Tony never paused to acknowledge them.

“Visual obtained,” JARVIS announced, right as screen appeared on the HUD. Darkness at first, then Tony recognized the underside of a car. Clean parts, new in make. S.H.I.E.L.D. technology was always state of the art.

“We were just there!” Unless there were other garages, or just cars in random rooms, which Tony wouldn’t be surprised. But it took way too long to establish a live feed; with two system breaches and who knew what else, JARVIS might not be in the best condition. Especially with Romanoff touching his stuff. “JARVIS, maintenance check--”

“Our communications are being breached,” JARVIS said before Tony could finish his fucking sentence.

“Wow, let’s just throw a line out to everyone, right?” Barton grunted, voice hollow. Still climbing through vents.

The line was unstable, the volume shifting between audible and ragged against the backdrop of static. And the voice was as strained. “…Agent Romanoff… Reporting.” 

“Natasha!” Jane squeaked, “Are you okay?!”

Tony blasted through the next room and obliterated a floor before diving down. “Wait, are you Romanoff or HYDRA? Or better yet, why should I not kick you off the feed for compromising my system, which you failed at of course--”

“Phil has the device,” Natasha said. “Find him and take him out, it’s in his pocket.”

“Nat, where are you?” Clint said.

The static disappeared. 

“Caught Miss Romanoff’s signal. Nothing malicious detected,” JARVIS said, tone loud and clear. “Came from the main room. And I have already taken the necessary steps to keep from going offline again.” 

“Main room?” I’m on it then,” Barton said. The sound of something clattering, probably a vent. Gunshots, bullets ricocheting against metal. “Wait, I see Phil.” More gunshots, then tumbling; did Clint jump from the vents? “Phil, wait!”

“Barton, careful! He could be another puppet!” But “Clint” and “careful” just did not exist in this lifetime. Especially with Agent involved in who knew what state. “Go after him, I’ll get Romanoff.”

Tony set his coordinates and took off, letting the suit guide him to his destination. Meanwhile Barton’s feed came to life with scuffling noises. A fight broke out. 

Another feed sprung to life; high winds, helicopter blades in a constant beat. Thor’s feed. “The aerial birds are most disagreeable, but the Hulk and I convinced them to leave, I presume-- Odin’s beard, they are flying toward the tower!”

“You mean Stark’s Tower?” Jane exclaimed. “But I just got through the firewalls!” 

Tony brought up visual of the Tower, standing tall despite the surrounding plumes of dark smoke, and few fires down below. Mobile fires; they were flaming tanks and one was being ripped asunder by Hulk. But Tony caught the helicopters, zooming straight for the Tower. Some were news crew; others were sleek, black, sharp at the edges. S.H.I.E.L.D. vehicles.

“Thor, take them down. Jane, forget the signal and just hide.”

“But they are but mere civilians under the influence. Friend Hulk, do not assault those jets!” Thor exclaimed.

“I’m almost through, just a few more seconds,” Jane said over the furious typing. “Walls kept popping up every time I made progress but they stopped appearing, so I can--”

Tony heard the explosion, followed by Jane’s screams.

And then a bang and a swear from Barton. “Fuck, come _back_!”

Tony wondered if he installed a compartment for aspirin in the suit. He lowered the feed on Thor’s end, having an idea of what the god was going through to get to the Tower, without the feral shouts. Tony honed in and blasted a hole through the double doors of Fury’s main room. Monitors, a crap ton of monitors were in the room, being watched by agents who turned toward Tony, guns raised.

No head pieces in sight. 

Were they still under HYDRA’s influence? Or gone rogue?

Tony maneuvered around the bullets, aiming for the equipment surrounding them, something to blow up to incapacitate them, when the interface zoomed in on one of the men crashing to the floor. A wound to the leg, nothing fatal.

“Barton hurry up with that signal!” Tony lowered the repulsors back to maiming status and blew up the computers, sending agents flying this way and that. As long as they were down for the count, they could heal up later.

And when would Tony ever have another chance to assault S.H.I.E.L.D. lackeys?

He caught the flash of red hair amidst all the smoke. Swiftly he destroyed a good section of the floor, estimating the fall wouldn’t be fatal for the remaining conscious agents. Screams echoed off the walls but they could handle it, Tony was sure.

Tony descended near one of the desks, one closest to the emergency supply of weaponry that was just about empty. The HUD locked onto the barrel of a gun that was aimed for him.

Beneath the desk he recognized the eyes but not their wideness, the way they were shaking.

Tony raised his arms as if under arrest, because the last thing he needed was for Romanoff to shoot at him, regardless of her mental state. “I’m clean! I’m clean, scout’s honor. Everyone else is down.”

The gun lowered and Natasha crawled out. There was a cut on her forearm, and blood clotted on the side of the head. A decent amount. The blow, possibly concussive. But her eyes were clear, wide but void of any blue static.

“HYDRA has been in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s system for months,” Natasha said with a heavy exhale. Like she had just finished a marathon. “Nearly a year in fact. I’ve been under since the PR event.”

“When you had to come here for medical. Is that how they’ve been getting everybody?”

Natasha nodded. “Phil has been compromised since the Battle of Manhattan.”

Well that sent a chill through Tony’s heart. All those weapons left astray since the battle, all that subject matter. What was even worse? For HYDRA to even begin brainwashing people that early means that they had weeded themselves into S.H.I.E.L.D. earlier than that.

Exactly how long had HYDRA been lurking within S.H.I.E.L.D.? Had access to all of their files, including files on the Avengers?

“Barton, what’s your status? I have Widow.” Tony waited one, two seconds. “Hawk! Hello? You conscious?” Still nothing over the feed.

Something did spring to life, but to his disappointment it was Thor. “We have managed to thwart the aircrafts and rescue Jane, but we cannot continue much longer without subduing these soldiers. What delays Friend Hawk?”

“About to find out. JARVIS, think you’re secure enough to enter S.H.I.E.L.D.’s database?”

“Already in, Sir,” JARVIS said without missing a beat. “What did you need?”

“Need to find Clint. Search all the cameras.” A window appeared on the HUD, flashes of the many rooms and hallways in milliseconds. If Hawkeye wasn’t conscious then Tony’d have to search for Agent; where’d he take Natasha? S.H.I.E.L.D., the supposed safest place on Earth was in figurative flames. The outside, not much better. Thor and Hulk had their hands full, he’d have to move fast.

“Dammit Hawk, you better not be down.”

The screen stopped on an image, or a feed that looked like an image. The only indication of it being live was the flickering light overhead, because the people in it weren’t moving.

Two figures. Both on their knees. One had the other in a what, body lock? One was clearly Hawkeye, no mistaking the quiver on his back. And that was a hug, he was hugging the other guy, whose stare was wide and toward the ceiling. Like he was petrified.

Which meant it couldn’t be Agent… could it?

Hawk moved. Slow but deliberate his hand swiped something from the floor and pressed it to his ear.

That was when one of the feeds came to life in Tony’s head, and he heard Hawk’s voice. “The signal… is down,” Clint said between heavy breaths.

Tony suddenly felt like he was intruding on something that he had no business watching. He shut off the visual but the image was still hung in the back of his vision, and it made his veins run cold. All this time, Phil was compromised? The expression on his face said it all. Being with the Avengers for months but not really since it wasn’t really him, or was it? More of, what percentage was him?

“Roger that.” Tony said, wishing he didn’t sound as exhausted as he felt. “All’s good on your end, Thor?”

“Indeed. The Good Doctor has regained his human form.”

“Good, bring Jane… here? Everywhere’ll be flooded with injuries. Here especially.” S.H.I.E.L.D. really wasn’t the safest place to be at the moment, but everywhere else would be filled to the brim.

“Here should be fine.” Natasha just about regained her composure, although Tony still detected the slightest Russian accent. “We need to regroup and find Steve. S.H.I.E.L.D. won’t be able to help us.”

“We don’t need them.” The name stirred the pain Tony blocked out, which was threatening to bleed into his thoughts. Color his way of thinking. “His phone was last found in the garage, we’ll regroup there. Barton, how’s Agent? We’ll need him for this.”

“Stable, but compromised-- What do you mean you’re not--” Clint’s voice became distant but Tony could still hear him arguing with probably Agent. “But after all you went through-- You sure… I mean… I don’t think--”

“If he’s able to bicker then he’s good enough to debrief. C’mon. To the main garage.”

Romanoff froze in the middle of combing her fingers through her hair when Tony motioned to pick her up. Both were stock still; but not because Tony was afraid. Or, not mostly at least. He lifted the visor to her helmet, lowered his own feed, and tried to relax his face as he locked stares. “Look, I’m not trying to threaten your assassin credibility, it’s still very much intact. Just want to get to the garage ASAP. Okay?”

The grip on the gun in her holster loosened, and as gently as the suit would allow, Tony hoisted Natasha up, and they gently took off.

Natasha had an arm slung around his neck, not as tense as he expected her to be. In fact, he didn’t know whether it was the suit’s fault, but she felt a lot smaller than he anticipated. Tiny even. Was she always this small?

Without looking at him she mumbled something, and it took JARVIS to repeat it for him.

“I believe Miss Romanoff said ‘thank you’.” Thankfully he said it for only Tony’s ears.

Definitely something for the record books. 

 

* * *

 

 

S.H.I.E.L.D. looked like a zombie apocalypse paraded through and then decided to throw a house party. Papers and debris littered the floors, as well as stray firearms. Desks and chairs overturned, holes in the walls and ceiling here and there. Between treating their own numbers of physical ailments and mental stability, repairing the place and taking care of outside relations, they would really be out of commission for a while. Fury was down for the count; not compromised but swamped with everything going on, and with broken bones. His job was not enviable in the least.

After an obnoxious amount of time the Avengers reassembled - including Bruce who now had his own clothes to wear - in the garage. Tony had Steve’s phone in his hand, or most of it; his beautiful tech was in pieces. Glass cracked, dented around the edges and the base - did someone take a gun to it? - they really tried to kill this thing. From the bit that Tony could access the information was locked. Someone tried and failed to infiltrate it.

Clint was alright for the most part but his hand was permanently at his side. Possibly a few broken ribs. Agent wasn’t injured but mentally, he was stretched at the seams. The deadpan wasn’t working with how shaken up he was, and it made Tony uncomfortable. The unflappable had been, well, flapped. Romanoff had her composure back and she stood there with her arms crossed, eyes narrowed at the floor. She did look apart from the group, since her mind was elsewhere. Bruce stood close by, fully clothed and contemplative. And Thor had a good sized gash on his leg, which stunned Tony the moment he flew in. Freakin’ helicopters.

Helmet tucked under his arm, Tony cleared his throat. “We need a plan of attack, and one that involves planning.” Because with half the team out commission, and how badly this counter assault went, they needed to be careful.

“Our win is a bandaid on a gunshot wound,” Romanoff began. “HYDRA can easily make more devices and the majority of our team is susceptible.”

“Earmuffs? Earplugs?” Tony shrugged.

“We all have some immunity.” Clint shrugged, laying the pieces of his bow along his table space. “Tony’s heart condom, Thor’s a God, Banner Hulks out--”

“But of what you three?” Thor interjected, gesturing to him and the other agents. “Already your conditions are debatable at best.”

“Nonsense.” Clint stepped forward, a clear wince on his face. “I’m good for another round against those HYDRA bastards.”

“No you’re not, and neither are we,” Phil said. His voice shook against his stilled body. He flexed his hands at his sides, his stare swept the room, their faces, everything around. “This is a mission for Stark, Banner, and Thor. The rest of us will seek medical attention once it becomes available to everyone, and the remnants of HYDRA’s influence have been purged.”

“Yeah. Heard that, Bruce?” Tony said before Bruce could protest. “You’re coming with us, no questions asked. There won’t be civilians, who cares about collateral.”

Bruce grinned sheepishly, aware that Tony knew of his secret excitement.

“Their leader is Dr. Arnim Zola--”

“Whoa what? You mean one of the guys back in Cap’s time. One of the HYDRA’s scientists.” Information sprung to life in Tony’s head, from S.H.I.E.LD.’s files to his own research. Not every day you hear a name like that.

“The same one.” Phil said, unruffled by Tony’s outburst. “Which explains why HYDRA has been able to manipulate the Tesseract so efficiently, and reason to believe that Steve isn’t dea--”

“Right.” Tony clapped his hands together, feeling his stomach clench.  “Serum research.” Cap was alive, but Tony’s mind was a very creative place when it wanted to be, sometimes against his will. Research required tests, which required samples, or a subject, which they very well had, and they could take anything from him in the most painful ways imaginable.

Needles straight to the heart. Or the spine. Agonizing screams. Tony swallowed heavily and shook his head, trying to focus on what Thor was saying.

“But our place of refuge, it has been damaged by the helicopters. Where shall we return to once the Good Captain is safe?”

“No offense.” Bruce glanced to Natasha. “But I wouldn’t feel comfortable staying here. Even if the place was in one piece.”

“Stark, you said you had a mansion in Malibu?” Clint said.

“What? Well yeah, but you guys don’t want to stay there. It’s small, and temporary, and there isn’t any danger there, right?” The filter was off, or more of the offbutton to his rambling. “That was the reason for our Superhero sleepover, it was central to the fighting. Over there is central to… beaches.”

Because the tower was Tony’s problem, and really there was no reason for them to stay with him once the problem was solved. Cap needed a proper doctor. Tony’s place was damaged, and he wasn’t useful to them anymore, didn’t make sense to force the team there--

“Why? Maybe I like the beaches,” Clint said.

Tony scoffed. “Spare me the sarcasm.”

“Then I’ll go ahead and speak.” Everyone turned to Bruce, who pretended not to notice. “I would not mind, er, would very much like to stay as the Avengers, meaning under one roof. No awkward cameras, and I can sleep soundly, without counting all those sheep. Counting never worked for me anyway.”

“As do I!” Thor nodded. “We would not be a team if our numbers were scattered.”

“Guess that makes sense, but--”

“We’re staying with you, Stark,” Natasha said, a sweet smile accompanying her freakin’ demeanor.

“Okay! Shit.” Tony was stuck with these assholes. Fantastic… And yet he wasn’t completely annoyed about it either. “Okay enough standing around. Phil you know where HYDRA’s base is. Give me the location, it’s time to get our Cap back.”

“I believe that’s the first time you’ve said my name,” Agent had the nerve to point out.

“The sentiment is getting to me.” Because they were a team, right? And teams were allowed to have sappy moments since really, they didn’t have to face anything head on, at least not alone. It was a comforting thought, the idea of not being completely alone.  

Time to reaffirm that, for the super soldier. “Minor disturbance. Let’s go.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So part of me was thinking of writing a subchapter - after the main story is over, of course! - of the story's events in Clint's point of view, or at least something involving Phil's recovery? A lot could be speculated on with Phil, and it'd be interesting to see if and how exactly he recovers from being a HYDRA puppet for so long. Would anyone be interested in that? 
> 
> Two more chapters to go, meaning next chapter is the last in Steve's PoV. Omg that's intense, I'm nervous and excited all the same. 
> 
> Thanks for making it this far! :)


	10. Unable to Move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Officially has been moved up to explicit for sexual content and descriptions that may be a little much for the squeamish at heart.

Steve thought he was back in the ice.

He was floating, drifting further and further into the dark depths.

The cold tightened its vice grip, keeping him just from grasping consciousness.

But the sleep was too thin.

He knew he was somewhere, but he was just short of waking up.

He was underwater but still breathing.

He was floating but unable to move.

He was awake but he couldn't speak.

Distant voices. Voices talking about an operation, the necessary preparations near complete.

Steve’s brow furrowed, he couldn't make any sense of it.

He remembered Dr. Erskine giving the go to begin the procedure, the Day of Rebirth. He remembered being skinny and exposed, lying on that flatbed with all those eyes staring down on him, unsure if he was the success they were holding their breath for.

He was that success back then. He was supposed to be now, but there was a screw up. Something wrong with the serum. A break in the formula. He needed to be fixed this cloud of information said, keeping a veil over his eyes. Keeping him from opening his eyes.

There was pressure on his nose and mouth; something was feeding him oxygen.

_Was he finally passing into another century?_

His heart gave a dull throb of pain before it ebbed away, the veil too heavy for him to mind. Sure, he'd have to readjust again to the changes: the advances in technology, the way people worked, the milestones in history. But he was a fast learner. He’d eventually get used to the future, or the will be present. Only to pass forward all over again. Maybe by then there’ll be a cure. 

_What was the use in fighting it anymore?_

In the end he was prolonging the inevitable, hiding it under a thin ray of hope. All those wasted days in the lab, searching for a cure that didn’t exist. If the Avengers could hear him now, they’d be ashamed…

When Steve wakes up again, would any of the Avengers be alive?

Natasha and Clint maybe, but who could really say? Bruce most likely because of the Hulk, and Thor would, but would he still be on Earth?

And Tony? He never told Steve his age, but if he had to guess, somewhere in his forties…

Steve would be visiting his grave.

It was like he fell back into his body and the jolt made him suck in a breath.

“We are ready to begin,” someone announced, right as Steve opened his eyes.   

The lights blurred his vision as the water's ripples haloed the rays caused by his struggling, his best attempts to move against the binds on his wrists, across the torso. His waist. His legs. He wasn't floating, he was strapped to a flatbed and Steve’s vision sharpened, allowing him to see past the lights. Slender, jointed, spider like metal arms hung yards above him, an assortment of surgical attachments at the ends. Sharpened, still and ready to slice him open.

All around him he caught the dark, blurry outlines against the blue, people standing stalk still.

_What the hell was going on here?!_

Adrenaline pumping, sluggish but flowing. Seconds, he had seconds until he was pried open like a broken wrist watch. Steve pulled against his binds. No leverage, no give. He dug in his elbows the best he could and pulled, throwing his head back. He caught a tube drift by, and he realized he was wearing an oxygen mask. ‘Least they were courteous enough to let him breathe.

"He has woken up!” He heard the voices and he grunted, trying to keep the adrenaline going when sleep threatened to pull him back. The water’s temperature wasn’t doing him any favors. Was he in a tank?

And once he escaped, how many would he have to take out? His shield, he needed his shield. He didn’t have his shield. Not his suit, not even regular clothes. Everything but his pants was taken.

Blood snaked through the water as pain tore through his forearm, but he felt the flatbed crack. His wrist was almost free, when he heard someone command, "Turn up the anesthesia!"

And he held his breath, trying to throw the mask off. It was either be dissected or drown, and if these guys wanted to experiment on him then wouldn't risk him drowning. They’d have to let him out then, but he wasn’t counting on waiting around. He gritted his teeth and shut his eyes. All he could see were those damned instruments above, and what was going to happen the moment he passed out. He couldn't let that happen, he wasn't going to go down like this--

“That’s your choice Captain, if you prefer to be awake,” a voice said over some speaker. The accent struck a cord in him. Was it Dr. Zola? He jerked his head toward the source, a figure with similar stature to the Hulk. But that couldn’t be right, the body type didn’t match up--

A whirring noise caught Steve’s attention; the blades descending from right above him to do God knew what.

The needle like ends pierced his arms, plunging straight to the bone. It took everything to keep a shout from ripping out of him since he was running out of oxygen. But the agony was blinding, making it impossible to think and with a massive yank he tore his arm free from the flatbed.

Red rose in the water as he jerked his arm from the needles.

Sirens were going off, loud and blaring and the silhouettes were running along the outside. Faint voices, all frantic.

Spots hazed his vision as he ripped away the last strap, the pain making him delirious. He kicked off, lungs screaming for air. He knew soldiers would be waiting for him at the top, armed and ready to attack--

Steve snapped off one of the surgical arms and propelled himself to the surface, needing to even out the fight. He grabbed the edge of the tank and the strain on his arms made him sputter through clumsy intakes of air. He couldn’t inhale quick enough.

There were dozens of soldiers on the platform with not barrels aimed for him, but nozzles. All were equipped with what looked like flamethrowers but Steve knew better, recalling the soldiers on the HYDRA ship. The water that froze on contact; it left a sour taste in his mouth.

“Captain Steven G. Rogers.”

Steve’s vision blurred the moment he glanced up, but he managed to focus on figure looming above him, drowning him in its shadow. Was it human? It wore something like an Iron Man suit but much taller, much broader. The face was blank of any human features, but Steve immediately understood why: the torso had the image of a person, a vivid, distorted image of a face grinning wildly from ear to ear. A face deteriorated in both body and mind. “Alias: Captain America. Captain of the Howling Commandoes, medals and awards numerous. I can name them all, if you like. I remember more than one man should.”

“T-that makes two of us.” The voice was unmistakable although the body was entirely off. Steve remembered first seeing the doctor down that dark hall so many years ago, how small he was despite the damage his designs inflicted in the war. Either he was wearing the suit, or he had infused himself inside of it.  Something told Steve it was the latter, and he wasn’t all too surprised. But what did that mean?

How much of the doctor was still human?

But even with the shock of seeing Dr. Zola again, Steve felt the fatigue creeping through his system. If he could get on dry land then maybe he’d stand a chance-- As if reading his mind one of the soldiers nearly shot him point blank before he could pull himself out of the water.

“Where are you off too in such a hurry?” The body gestured like a regular human, a syringe catching the light as he motioned. “You cannot leave until you give me what I rightfully deserve.”

“And what’s that? You already took my clothes.” The room was huge, lined with levels of railways along the walls where other soldiers stood, machine guns at the ready. Between scientists and other surgical tanks, he saw the exit on the opposing wall. Swim, leap, land, bolt--

The soldiers behind Zola shots jets of ice around him, the temperature falling near instantaneously. Steve would pass out give out before he made it to the other side.

“Why, I’m referring to the serum of course. I caught wind of your condition thanks to S.H.I.E.L.D.’s incompetence. Then again, being under the custody of some of the founders, it was easy to corrupt a system of good in its germinating stages.”

 _Woozy._ He needed to get out and fast, alert the other Avengers--

“I thought the initial dosage would have done its job. Perhaps this time it will accelerate your condition enough.”

Dr. Zola reached out for Steve but he managed to hook his arm around the bulky wrist and with a kick off the podium’s side, Steve flipped him overhead into the water. Steve dove under as bullets cut through the water, grazing his skin.

They weren’t aiming to kill him. They needed him alive.

Steve managed to round back onto the podium, using the metal blade to cut through the forming ice. He pulled himself on and swung with the metal spike at the first row of men. They were slow thanks to their equipment, but his arms were still raw, muscles throbbing. It was difficult to catch his breath, but he kept his eyes steady on the guys ready to attack. Steve heard the squeak of faucets, their equipment loaded, and he was ready to go down swinging.

The exit doors blew open and the Hulk came rampaging in, grabbing the rubble from the blast and flinging it straight for the room’s upper levels. Steve leapt out of the way, ignoring the streaming cold and the many screams behind him to watch Thor fly in. Bandages stood out against his leg but it didn’t stop from launching Mjolnir through the workstations, sending papers and people into the air.

And the crimson of the Iron Man suit cut through the air, light blue streaks taking out the scrambled soldiers.

Widow and Hawkeye were missing, indicating that they must be injured. But the Avengers were here, meaning that the threats of HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D. were hopefully under control. Cap whirled back toward the surrounding soldiers, who were no longer stunned by the sudden assault.

Cap maneuvered around a jet stream and knocked the soldier sideways with the metal spike, then ducked another incoming stream. He pierced the armor of a second, sending him crumpling on himself, and Steve kicked him across the floor and into a fourth. More streams shot for him which he rolled out of the way, taking out five and six. Dodge, counter, swing with the spike, ignore the seizing muscles, keep going--

He slipped and just by momentum of his body did he avoid a stream. The podium was sleek with ice, hard for him to move on bare feet. Cold. Hot breath rising into the air.

More soldiers, standing fine despite the room shaking from the Hulk’s shouts.

“Capsicle!” Iron Man arced downward, shooting one-handed at the soldiers while the other reached out to grab him--

The podium busted apart from under Cap and he as well as everything else fell into the blue. An explosion? Iron Man was gone.  Cap swam for the surface but between falling soldiers and debris he couldn’t tell which way was up when pulled in every other direction.

Something latched onto his ankle. “Do you know what I went through during those years you played hero in our backyard?” It was the Doctor, crazed look in his eyes, voice audible even in the water’s chaos. He whirled toward the Doctor, punching and kicking, anything to get him away, but now he had him by the arm and refused to let go. “And even after, no one would hire me, the record that was forced upon me. Schmitt had evaporated into thin air and still he plagued my dreams. Every time I blink my eyes, he’s there.”

Dr. Zola jammed a syringe into his arm.

“Because of a simpleton with a shield!”

Ice ran through Steve’s veins and sleep began to take him, if the lack of air didn’t get to him first. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the metal arms of this damn surgical chamber, and taking a firm hold of one he stabbed Dr. Zola in the center of his chest, piercing through the face’s projection.

Steve was released, but his limbs were seizing up. He didn’t know where Zola went but the fading noises and loss of direction told him he was as good as gone.

A dull explosion in the background.

It became a lot easier to breathe.

He thought he saw crimson but the bright lights blurred his vision, casting shadows on colors.

Steve heard his name before everything spiraled away.

-

-

-

-

-

He was lying on something soft.

Steve was warm, and he could be content with just lying there but curiosity stirred him to open his eyes, just for a moment.

The room was dark.

Where was HYDRA? Dr. Zola? Was everyone safe? He felt his eyes close and he drifted off.

-

-

-

-

-

He heard a door open. Shuffling, feet against a carpet.

“It’s not permanent yet.” Steve heard someone say. “He’s almost gone though… much time left.”

“Not good enough.”

“Tony…” It was Bruce, exhausted and pleading. “The serum has rejected all foreign substances. I’m out of options-”

“Then we need more options!”

Something shattered. A door slammed. Steve thought he knew the voice, he just about had it…

-

-

-

-

-

Tony. It was Tony… Was he here? He felt eyes on him and he shifted, sleep too much of a weight on him.

Silence, except for his own slow breathing. At this point Steve couldn’t tell if he was hearing things but all he saw was white. Someone loomed over him, beside him.

His body tensed against the rigid cold dead set in his bones, icing over all of his senses. The silhouette was blurred, rippling in and out of focus, and despite the faint pangs to defend himself he couldn’t will himself to move. All he could do was listen.

“I don’t know if you heard any of that, but it’s alright.” It was Phil’s voice, faint but audible. Steve heard him shift against something. There was a heavy sigh, and Steve wasn’t sure if it was Phil because it seemed off from his character. Then he kept speaking.

“I’ve apparently been under the Tesseract’s influence for months. It’s… interesting, I can’t differentiate between what was real and what wasn’t for all that time. Like some lackadaisical dream, or a nightmare.” He didn’t sound like he was addressing anyone in particular, just trying to figure himself out. The silhouette shifted, a slow, careful sort of movement. “Maybe that’s why I miss these talks, a mental unwinding without the listener wanting to coddle me. I’m not nearly that broken.”

Though Phil didn’t sound too sure of himself. Just listening to him was a mental strain and the voice was falling farther and farther away. “I believe conversation stimulates mental activity, however.” The tone was once again professional. The same is with developing babies and comatose patients.… Again, I’m sorry Captain Rogers… For everything.”

Steve felt himself shiver before having to let go.

-

-

-

-

-

Fragments slipped in and out of his mind, like trying to grasp water and having it slip between his fingers.

“We were terrible on the field without you.” Natasha murmured. Steve couldn’t tell if it was real time or a memory. Or maybe a dream, he couldn’t recall hearing these bits, these fleeting bits of conversation. “The Avengers’ dynamic was off, if you could call what happened a dynamic. I’m not sure what to make of it… We don’t have a leader.” Her voice softened, and the silhouette’s head tilting lightly to the side.  “Though Stark was effective. Maybe with time he’ll be more efficient. It’s a shame…” He felt something warm rest atop his hand, and there was a laugh, light and humorless. “I suppose those late nights in the gym really did go to waste.”

-

-

-

 

“I am leaving for Asgard, but I hope to return.” There was a broad outline flickering like a shadow, Thor’s voice throwing itself from the distance. “I hope to find a cure for your ailment. Perhaps the Allfather knows of a remedy, and if not I shall search without falter. Jane sends her apologies for not visiting you. She has enlisted the medical skills she has acquired many years ago to aid the fallen soldiers of S.H.I.E.L.D. But fear not, she will also be visiting from time to time…”

-

-

-

“I’m not good at talking or being sentimental.” Clint laughed to himself. “I’d ask how you’re doing but uh, yeah. I’ll just keep you company. You must be bored. Or maybe not.” Steve heard something shift, the creak of a bed. Was he in the hospital?

Was he finally passing on? “Maybe you’re just sleeping,” Clint muttered. “Maybe you don’t even realize you’re asleep.”

-

-

-

“I’m sorry.” Bruce said. “The puzzle was too hard to crack, not that I treated it as some kind of game, of course,” he stammered, then sighed. He pinched his eyes shut, as if resting them. “There was an idea… I don’t know why I’m even… Maybe guilty conscience. But, I don’t even know.” Bruce laughed. “It’s downright batty, and I’m glad you’re not awake to hear it… But maybe…”

Bruce was whispering and Steve couldn’t hear him, no matter how hard he strained. Bruce wasn’t crazy, and even so Steve was desperate. What was Bruce going to say? Steve called after him but he was gone, and his yelling were whispers. God, he was desperate. So, so desperate.

-

-

-

“Oh, calling for the other beautiful mind in this tower? I see how it is Cap.”

Tony was watching him, eyes dark but gleaming. The silhouette raised a hand, paused, and let it drop.

“This is lame. Feels like some boring funeral. There isn’t even any booze.”

The outline faded and Steve panicked. Everything began to fade, colors becoming less pronounced, darkness blurring out all images. “I know you’re lying, Cappy. Stevie Cappie, and all your aliases. You’re not really, what, hibernating? Cap-napping. It’s part of your power.” He had difficulty envisioning it but he imagined Tony’ face, the little twitches the muscles made when he was feeling emotional. When there was something he didn’t want to admit.

Steve felt his fingers twitch, small but an improvement, anxiety churning the pit of his stomach. “Super strength and peak reflexes?” Tony laughed a little, without any humor. “That’s the G rated version. But I do know you Cap. I know. You’re a super hypnotist. It’s in those damn pecks of yours. Made everyone believe you’re sleeping because of them, and your muscles. Like Krispy Kreme donuts. You ever had those? They’re phenomenal. Then again, so does motor oil. Food really hasn’t been a thing for me lately. Don’t tell Bruce.” Tony’s voice was accelerating but it was growing harder to hear and Steve was afraid he left altogether. Even when he started speaking again, he couldn’t calm down.

“I’ll get you some. Donuts I mean. Right now even. I’ll buy you a whole store and you’ll be reunited with your doughy brethren. Just wake up and they’re yours, okay?”

Tony leaned closer, eyes wider than normal. “Do I have to kiss you? Because that’d be fine, but taking advantage of a national icon, kinda can’t… You’re right, that’s too cliché.”

The figments of blue were blinking out like dying stars. Tony was so close yet disappearing right in front of him.

“For whatever record… That day, I’m referencing to the whole Manhattan battle thing? You know, near died, did anyone kiss me thing?... I totally would have been okay with that. You kissing me, I mean. Is that weird?”

Steve’s heart was beating so fast it felt about to burst. It wasn’t weird, not in the least, and everything would be okay if they found Bruce and asked him about his theory if Steve could get up right now. They could fix it, everything would be okay--

“Just wake up, okay?” Tony’s voice hung in the air, a hand reaching to him from the surface, hanging there as everything faded from Steve when darkness fell.

 

Steve’s heartbeat was a speeding train’s roar in his ears when his eyes snapped open.

Tony was hovering over him, eyes wide and Steve pulled him into a kiss before the cold could take its hold again.

Tony yelled in his mouth, teeth clanging against Steve’s before he tore away like he was electrocuted. “Steve, the fuck?!”

“I-I-I’m sorry, did you not,” Steve swallowed heavily, pulling his hands from Tony’s shoulders. “Did you not say, I must have dreamt--”

“No!” Tony grabbed Steve’s hands and placed them firmly back where they were. “Dreamt what? You didn’t- didn’t hear all that, did you?”

“Yes. Maybe?” Steve thumbed Tony’s shoulders, loving the fit of them in his hands. “Is this a test?”

Tony stared at him, his shock fading into a smirk. “I knew you were a hypnotist,” he said before pulling Steve into a kiss.

This time it was gentle, Tony’s beard prickling Steve’s skin, the taste of alcohol on his breathe but it was still the most amazing thing he tasted in a while. He leaned in, wanting to take the kiss deeper, feeling clumsy in it but Tony didn’t seem to mind. In fact Steve felt the press of Tony’s tongue against his lips and he was gently pried open.

Steve tensed, blush creeping down his neck, not knowing what to do. He’s never gone this far before--

Tony must have read his body language because he withdrew, but he still hung close. “What? Going too fast?” he panted.

“N-no,” Steve rasped, and Tony’s pupils dilated. “I just, I’m new to… This.”

“New to me? Well duh--”

“New overall, to uh, being intimate.”

Now Tony pulled away to get a good look at him.

“No way. You’re telling me Captain Adonis never got laid? That smile is set to kill, anyone would spread ‘em by just that smile alone.”

“Tony that’s insensitive.”

“Well you are a dork. Newsflash.”

“I meant the sex thing!” Steve felt his ears burn.

“Oh. But it’s the truth. Who wouldn’t want this?” Tony squeezed Steve’s butt and he jumped, wondering if he could feel any warmer under the collar.

“I wasn’t always something to look at though,” Steve said as straight as he could. “Before the serum--”

“You were compact and fit for travel. Did the camouflage still work?”

“What camouflage?”

“Yeah it may be broken though.” Tony ran his fingers along Steve’s cheek. “Or can you only turn various shades of red?”

“Shut up.” Steve nudged him but he couldn’t hide his smile.

“So uh..” Tony’s stare flickered away, then back to Steve. “Are you okay? Or stable? Your color is draining.”

Steve’s brow furrowed at first but then he felt it, the knot panging in his skull that formed when he tried to block out the exhaustion. “How long have I been out?”

“Five days. Your heart rate fell… a lot. Bruce thought that you were done with this century.”

Bruce. In his dream he spoke of a cure. Could that of been real? And if so, was it a possible cure? It wasn’t guaranteed…

“Cap?” Tony waved a hand in Steve’s face.

Steve stared at him, bunching his shirt up as he thought. The cure wasn’t guaranteed. He may never get another chance with Tony, not like this. It was selfish and irrational, but Steve shut those thoughts out as he placed a hand on the back of Tony’s head. “Not done yet,” he mumbled, before pulling him into  another kiss.

Their tongues mingled as Tony fidgeted with the buttons of Steve’s shirt; he didn’t even realize he was dressed in pajamas, like he was just turning in for the night.

Tony slipped the shirt off of Steve’s shoulders and withdrew, bringing a whine in the back of Steve’s throat. Fortunately Tony didn’t notice, too busy staring at what, at Steve? Tony let out a low whistle.

The distance alone was too much and Steve pulled Tony by the wrist, the lack of body heat too much to handle. It was literal ache to have the distance between them. 

Steve buried his face against the crook of Tony’s neck, taking in the scent of aftershave disguising something coppery. Meanwhile Tony’s fingers skittered along his skin with precision, tracing every dip and curve, and Steve bit back a groan, not knowing if he was doing this right but allowing these urges to take the wheel. He had no idea otherwise. He began to kiss Tony’s neck, along his ear and down to his collarbone, stopping to nip a little at the skin and Tony shuddered against him.

“And you said… You’re new?” Tony choked.

Steve mouthed the words against his skin and then realized, when did Tony remove his own shirt? The collar rested in Steve’s hands, the shirt a clean rip in two while the bottom half remained intact and still hugging Tony’s body. His eyes widened.

“Oh my God - Tony, I’m sorry--”

Tony laughed a high sort of laugh, Steve would almost call it a giggle. It bounced off the walls. “Sorry? Please. I can buy a new shirt, or one just like it. Now where were you?”

“Um.” Steve folded the shirt’s remains. “We were being intimate ‘n stuff.”

“ ‘N stuff. Articulate. Actually, hold on. We might need something.”

Tony got off the bed and headed over to one of the drawers. Although the lighting was dim, Steve didn’t recognize the bedroom. The modern design suggested that they were in the Tower still, but even the large, wall like windows threw him off. The outside was near darkness, a sea of stars overhead and faint white of waves breaking down below.  

“Where are we? Not New York.”  

“My room, Malibu.” Tony didn’t look back from the contents of the drawer as he threw articles of clothing out, one after the other. “Don’t mind the tidiness, I’m hardly in here.”

“What happened to the tower?” Steve studied the contours of Tony’s back, how the dim lights outlined each dip and bend. Steve shoved a hand in his pants to try and calm himself down. “You had me stay in your room?” God, his thoughts were scattered.  

Tony paused. “Minor renovations. Just collateral from the HYDRA thing.” He fumbled with his words but he picked back up before Steve could speak. “That’s not a problem is it? I mean the room thing, I hardly use it. Unlike the tower, we’re a little short on rooms here.  Found it.”

“HYDRA assault?” Steve sat up fully. “You mean with Dr. Zola. The mind control--”

“Ugh, Steve. Don’t mention that thing, complete boner killer.”

“But--”

“Shush Stevie.” Tony was back on the bed, crawling back to where he was before. “All in the past. Remember, moment?”

“But everyone, is everything okay?” Was Tony holding a tube of toothpaste?

Tony rolled his eyes. “Yes. We’re all good. The agents are fondling, Bruce and Romanoff went out for coffee, don’t know why, and Thor’s in his homeland. Now if you don’t mind…” Tony shifted his knee between Steve’s thighs, pressing against his hardened cock. “Though I don’t think you do.”

“S-so that’s not toothpaste.” Steve arched forward a bit, the contact driving him wild.

“Cap, I don’t know whether to cuddle you or make out some more.”

The side of Steve’s mouth kicked up in a smile, choosing to take that as a compliment. He reached out and with eager hands pulled Tony close, loving the feel of their skin touching, and how the arc reactor’s light flickered bounced between them. They fell back into kissing fast, this time Steve allowing his hands to wander along Tony’s skin, the firmness of his body and yet there was a softness to him. He allowed his fingers into Tony’s hair, the strands thin and soft… And then back down, unzipping Tony’s jeans for him as Tony went to work pulling Steve’s pants down, like their minds were already along the same lines.

They stopped to marvel at each other, Steve following the trail of hair running down Tony’s stomach with his fingers.

“You have the fingers of a goddess,” Tony said.

Steve busted into laughter, feeling too giddy for his own good. But just staring at Tony’s cock made his body ache in ways he didn’t think possible.

“How are we--”

“Just follow my lead.” Tony squirted the lube onto his fingers. He paused to stare at Steve again before grinning crookedly and directing him over.

Steve gasped at the feeling of Tony’s fingers sliding into him, slow but smooth and a little cold. “Just relax,” he murmured into his ear, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. Steve nodded, though it was strange that this was about to happen. He grunted as a second finger slid in and began to work him, and he pushed against Tony, bringing a wave of heat into him and anxiety clenched his stomach. Never did he think he’d get to this moment, and with another man at that. But it wasn’t any man, it was Tony, and Steve bottoming was something he didn’t feel shy about at all. It was Tony doing this to him, Tony with those animated eyes and hand gestures and random tangents, and the drive that Steve admired so much. That alone made wave after wave of intimacy come three fold.

“Alright…” Tony pulled his hands away and motioned Steve turn again and lift his hips.

If this way was possible, Steve thought.

And it was. The beginning nearly made him come right there and his eyes blasting open as Tony pressed further in, and Steve wrapped his arms around him, fingers right on his back as he motioned, again and again. And the feel of it, feeling so full, connected in a way that cartwheeled his insides to the point of a cry escaping him with such an intensity he never imagined, fireworks exploding behind his eyes.

“Muh, me too.” Tony groaned, and Steve realized that he came too.

Tony fell against him and Steve rubbed circles into the small of Tony’s back, fingers gliding along damp skin. He helped Tony out with the other hand.

“Ever the gentleman,” Tony half laughed, half panted.

“Mm…” Steve shut his eyes and smiled, Tony’s smile bright in his mind. The touch of his skin, the sound of his voice, the added twinge of coconut to his scent and taste…

It was the most irrational thing Steve could have done with his final moments in this century, and yet he didn’t have any regrets. For once in a long time, Steve was sure of himself, of what he wanted and actually obtaining it. In just that moment, being with Tony wasn’t just a dream, and he didn’t have to worry about being judged without being selfish.

For once it was alright to just be Steve Rogers, not Captain America. Not the perfect soldier, but a regular, flawed man. 

The last thing Steve thought as he slipped away was how warm he felt inside, his own personal flame.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, one more chapter left! Hopefully everything will wrap up nicely at the end of all this madness, but who can really say? 
> 
> Thank you for sticking around this long! :)


	11. Fragmented but Whole

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you have it, the last chapter of The Man Who Can't be Moved. A special thanks goes out to IronPanda for proofreading and beating me with violent words of wisdom whenever I started doubting myself, and being a makeshift beta reader. Also, kudos to Sunshine, who really doesn't have a name on here but showered me with enthusiasm whenever I needed it. 
> 
> I'm not sure when I'll be taking on another crazy project like this anytime soon but it was definitely a lot of fun. If you have any questions or would like to chat Avengers, check out my tumblr! ellie-bronte.tumblr.com. 
> 
> Enjoy, and thanks for sticking around! :3

Tony allowed himself to sleep the night, forcing his mind to shut off. He didn’t want to think because thinking made him feel hollow, and he wasn’t sure how to fill the void. It wouldn’t be anytime soon at least. 

He could save himself from so many situations: kidnapping, slow corrosive death, murder and what not. Like a cockroach - but much better looking - he couldn’t die. Yet he couldn’t prevent it from happening to someone else.

But Cap wasn’t dead, he had to remind himself. He was just gone. Probably out of his lifetime. Bruce estimated seventy more years. Maybe less since Cap was gone sooner than they had anticipated. Maybe Tony could stall death long enough to see him open his eyes again.

So Tony lied. He didn’t really sleep through the night. More of drifted in and out of consciousness.

But he didn’t want to leave, not yet. The idea of Steve being gone was still fresh, so he could still pretend it wasn’t a reality just yet.  After a while the smell of sex filtered out of the room. Steve’s body temperature hadn’t fallen just yet so Tony stayed close, taking in the warmth and slow breathing. Like shameless aftersex cuddling.

Yeah, he could pretend for just a little longer.  Come to think of it, he’d have to bathe Steve and put him in fresh clothes. Tony smirked to himself; it was a miracle that he woke up one more time, and they choose to go at each other like rabbits. Completely irresponsible, but worth it. Tony would do that again in a heartbeat. He’ll just keep that moment a secret from the team. His only regret was not doing it sooner…

Maybe they could have had more time together.

So now what? S.H.I.E.L.D. would waltz in and take Cap away, for safe keeping. Like a collectable, a weapon locked away in a vault. Whose job specifically would it be to take care of Captain America while he slept, keep the cobwebs away? Strange hands assigned to touch him, keep him healthy. Getting _paid_ to handle a man like him…

The hell with that. Tony wasn’t handing him over to S.H.I.E.L.D. He’ll take care of him, no charge required.

When the sun started to rise Tony sat up with a groan, stress a sharp pang at the front of his skull. A massive cup  of coffee was in order, that and some donuts. Then he could maybe consider performance better than autopilot.

Day one without Cap was underway… Was it too early to drink?

 

-

 

-

 

-

 

So one could only imagine all of the bricks that were shat when Steve opened his eyes.

 

* * *

 

“Yeah… about that.” Bruce’s hands started to fumble with each other. Tony thought he saw actual fog on his glasses. “I uh… I had a theory, a-and it seemed plausible enough, but I wasn’t sure how to uh, elaborate properly-- But looks like you two found it just fine!” He gestured to their lack of clothes. By the grace of Steve did Tony even have a sheet around himself; it was thrown on him when they both went rushing out of Tony’s room.

“Wait. Whoa. _What_?” Tony scrubbed his face with the pads of his fingers. “JARVIS, lock the lab doors.”

“Why are you locking the doors--”

_“Bruce I’m asking the questions here!”_ Because Tony was straight up delirious and the last thing he needed was someone barging in on this very delicate explanation. Delicate and growing in unconventionality.

Bruce took off his glasses and began to clean the fog off of them, his face practically glowing. “I only thought of it after accidently taking a swig from your mug instead of mine, which by the way was how many shots of espresso?”

“Six or seven, give or take.” Tony shrugged. “The point?”

Bruce threw up his arms, his glasses whizzing out of his hands. Fortunately Steve was FREAKIN’ CONSCIOUS to catch them. “It made my mind race down a, a mental labyrinth on a Vespa with the breaks cut out. There were hallucinations, and an earthquake, and--”

Steve cleared his throat, skin so flushed the American flag would salute him. “Bruce, focus please?” He handed him back his glasses.

“Right.” Bruce folded his hands and set them down on the desk. “Well by the time I came up with that, uh, _that_ theory, you had already reverted into suspended animation. I was testing whether it was possible to generate the same effect through other means when, well, Tony took you into his own hands. Well not you, more of it, uh, the situation!”

“So the answer. This entire time-” Tony laughed, light and crazed. “Was good old-fashioned--”

“Yes,” Bruce quickly said. “Yes it was.”

And Tony couldn’t help the fits of laughter from bubbling out of him. Racking his chest, uncontrollable laughter that had him doubled over on himself. Months of aches and pains slowly unwound and he literally felt lighter, more limber.

Steve was still just as red, if not redder. His eyes were wide, practically bulging, as if this was all one huge April Fool’s joke. “So then…” Steve rasped out. “I’m cured?”  His other hand tightened on the bed sheet around his waist.

Tony heard Bruce speak in the background of his crazed snickers. “Maybe. The whole situation was difficult to analyze due to the protective barrier the serum kept up, but so far you seem fine. How do you feel?”

“Fine, er great even.” He raked his hair with his fingers. “I just, I can’t believe so many months of research, and the cure was, well…”

“Finally getting some,” Tony blurted out because he could not resist.

Steve smacked a hand to his forehead, pinched look in full force. “Oh my God…”

“No no it’s fine, I wasn’t getting any either! So really,” Tony nudged Steve’s arm. “It’s a win/win. Both parties are happy, who’s complaining?”

 “I’ll have to do some tests before I can say. But yes, we can assume the serum was suffering from a corrosive hypothermia, then a massive amount of heat countered the effects. I just wasn’t sure of the form of heat and this method seemed out there at best… But it worked!” Bruce’s voice cracked.

 “Hell yes.” Tony grabbed Steve’s face with both hands and planted a firm kiss on his lips. “Healthy dosage of coitus, doctor’s recommendation, coming up.”

“Tony!” Steve grabbed Tony’s shoulders, and held him at a distance. The soldier was trying to look stern but really embarrassment was making his brow twitch. And the redness wasn’t doing him any favors, even as he looked Tony in the eye.  “We should run some tests first!”

“Right, tests.” That was when Tony’s vision broke, Cap multiplying before his eyes. “You do that…” He released a massive yawn, all those days, hours finally catching up with him. “Imma… reboot… Goodnight.”

Tony patted Steve’s chest before darkness happened.

 

* * *

 

Bruce monitored Steve for the next several days, tracking his vitals, temperature, and the functionality of the serum. It all remained at a constant, healthy rate. On the slow incline actually, positives all across the board. No fluctuations, chills, or dizzy spells, and Steve looked alert the entire time which was how he should be. The only flux was how much Steve was blushing at a given moment.

As for the explanation as to why for the sudden upturn, Bruce pinned it on a number of factors, both physical and psychological. Hypothesis one was that the serum was on a drastic decline due to outside factors involving temperature and physical exertion, and in order to balance itself back to an equilibrium, a drastic low had to be reached. Then when Steve’s body fell into sleep mode it could balance back out, like an extreme case of breaking a fever in reverse. Whatever that mad scientist Zola had injected into Steve might have been a catalyst for the rebooting process.

Another hypothesis involved a psychological spiral, that the mental strains Steve was putting himself through was tricking his body into thinking he was sick, and under extreme amounts of paranoia due to HYDRA, the body’s response was to shut down, or revert to a calmer state.

And of course there was the theory of Tony’s libidio literally raising Steve from the theoretical dead, but the idea was dropped when Steve refused to speak to him for a few hours.

For their privacy, they ran with the first idea when they told the rest of the Avengers. Steve might literally break otherwise.

That was about a week ago. Actually, seven days, nine hours and twenty four minutes, and already the Avengers were back in the Tower. It was a group consensus of homesickness and wanting to be a part of the recovery, city and S.H.I.E.L.D. wise. The Tower wasn’t hazardous; “under construction” was more accurate. But really, a couple scientists, secret agents, and a titillating tactician could avoid the bright yellow caution tape that kept them from plummeting off the building.

Just call them stubborn, they just couldn’t stay away from home.    

The first thing Steve suggested once they were situated - and Bruce gave him the green light - was this breakfast place. Tony figured that Steve would want to see the city’s damages, as well as finally start moving around again after spending so many hours in the lab. And heck, waffles sounded pretty damn good.

Funny, Tony expected Manhattan to be a little less… inhabitable. But in person it didn’t look too bad, give or take several busted buildings, and fractured roads. Considering the fact that he had put the battle happy god and the guy with anger issues on damage control, Tony expected a lot worse.

“So is this a date?” The table was small but not uncomfortably so. Large enough for Tony to lie out sugar packets as he reorganized them. The weather was nice, chilly but not overdoing it, the noises of construction crisp in the air. “Where are my flowers?”

“I guess it is.” Steve’s gaze flickered from the surrounding construction, and to Tony. “Next time I’ll buy you some.  Hope you don’t mind me covering your meal instead.”

“ _Cover_ Tony Stark?” Tony scoffed. “Tony Stark does not need covering, in fact I’ll cover both of us just fine.”

“Well you already rented out half the place,” Steve said, eyes bright with amusement.

Tony waved a careless hand. “All part of the celebrity lifestyle, Stevie. Can’t have commoners breathing our date air. I’m me, you’re you. And that’s my building over there.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Steve said.

“As it is, why are we here?” Tony flicked a sugar packet just to watch Steve snatch it out of the air. To see those reflexes at optimum level again excited him in more ways than one. “We could go anywhere, have any type of food. Not like you don’t deserve it.”

Steve shrugged. “I like this place, has a familiar feel to it. Unless you want to go somewhere else?”

“Nope, just here for the ride. I think our waitress is coming.”

The waitress walked over and Cap immediately perked up as if in formation. Tony thought he might’ve just been that hungry, until Cap addressed the waitress first. “Beth! How have you been?”

So this was Beth.

“Hey Steve,” she said with a smile too wide as she poured them coffee. Coffee was godlike but Tony knew that wasn’t a coffee-happy smile. “I’ve been good. Taking a lot of aspirin lately, a lot of headaches. But at least the city is still standing, you know? Thanks to you and the Avengers.”

“Oh, I didn’t do much.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “Really, I uh--”

“Nonsense, you did plenty.” Betty glanced over, as if she wasn’t expecting another body at the table for two, and her eyes widened. Tony smirked internally, also catching her sharp intake of breath on realizing who he was. “Though theoretically, one could argue I did more. Actually, it was mostly me saving the day.  The others helped. Mainly they’re for photoshoots. Composition really.”

“Can we have a few minutes to decide?” Steve stared at Tony, completely straight-faced.

“O-of course--“

“Decide on what? We’ll have one of everything, Barbie.”

“What?” Cap and she simultaneously gawked, one more incredulous than the other.

“Funny, I didn’t think I had a stutter,” Tony mused.

“Sure! Uh, Okay.” She flattened her skirt and left with brisk steps, expression stuck in a permanent shock.

Seconds passed before Cap autolocked his lecture beams on Tony.

“Her name is Beth.”

“That’s what I said.” Tony shrugged.

“And we don’t need all that food.”

“A growing soldier needs a healthy diet.” Tony flicked a sugar packet across the table.

Steve caught it once again. Damn that wasn’t getting old. “I thought I was a senior citizen?”

“A recovering veteran who pretends he can’t challenge Thor to an eating contest. I’ve seen the footage.” They were like open garbage disposals. Keep stray appendages at a safe distance at all times.

Cap shook his head and rested his hand on top of Tony’s, sending sparks along his skin. “You never did tell me what happened after I passed out.” Despite having the entire patio to themselves his voice lowered, stare fixated with Tony’s.

“That’s an awkward transition Cap.” Tony diverted his eyes upward, downward? A couple birds perched on a beam at a nearby construction site. “Couldn’t even warn me first? I like being eased in, if you get what I mean--”

“Tony.” Tony glanced back to find him still staring. Did he ever cramp up by sitting that still? “That’s hardly appropriate in a family setting.”

“Right, let me make sure it’s okay with the families.” A glance to the left, and then the right, before Tony turned back to Steve. “I don’t think they’ll mind, call it a hunch.”

“Then hypothetically, we can talk about anything,” Steve said. “Since our conversation is private.”

Tony arched an eyebrow . “Hypothetically, yes… Wait. Did you just manipulate me?”

“What do you mean?”

“By having me agree to our overall privacy. That insures we are able to talk about anything, i.e. serum stuff. I’m right, aren’t I? I am.” And all Tony got for his deduction was a shrug from Steve. And a smirk.

Damn smirk.

“The sun came up and you woke up.” Tony rolled his eyes. “C’mon Cap, you were there--”

“Tony.” Cap squeezed his hand. “You know what I mean.”

“Do I? Why don’t you manipulate me to the meaning?”

“ _Really_? Okay.” Steve sighed, though still in good humor. He wiped the now grin off of his face and said, “I meant the HYDRA attack.”

“Oh, _that_. Yeah that was the good part, Avengers avenging properly. What you would expect from us, we blew shit up and put HYDRA in their place. Won’t surface again ‘til ever.”

“And Dr. Zola?”

“Well you took care of that. Didn’t leave much for us to do when we got there. HYDRA’ll need a new leader. That’ll keep them out of commission for a while.”

He looked as good as dead to Tony, as dead as a half-human, half-suit thing could get, skewered by a metal surgical arm. However, there wasn’t a body in the suit to recover. All that was beyond the shattered glass were wires and metal. So was it an AI? Or did the crazy bastard literally fuse himself with his technology?

It was around eighty percent disturbing, and twenty percent intriguing.

Cappy nodded but he looked more pinched than anything.

“What?” Tony leaned forward. “If he had a chance of coming back, he’d have a heck of a time surviving Asgard. Thor took him, as well as anything Tesseract related. Merry Christmas.”

“Right…” But Steve’s other hand gripped his coffee mug a little too tightly. Tony recognized that face, it was the ‘I’m mentally beating myself up’ patriotic face.’ The face that Steve had for the past, how many months? But the innocent civilians and teammates were safe, who was he concerned about--

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “You’re not seriously feeling guilty over the doctor.”

“No,” Steve quickly assured. “I’m not. Having a few loose screws is no excuse for endangering so many people. Just... How they got loose.” Tony waited for Steve to say more, but he looked more contemplative. But he continued to wait, in case he did want to speak because he was all ears. The patience part could use some work since he kept glancing all over the place. But Steve did say something else, finally. “All that time, after everything that happened to him… It must get to a person, y’know? I’m not… making any sense am I.”

“Not if you’re rationalizing crazy. Doesn’t work, not even for me.”

“But you’re a genius.” Steve’s thumb brushed against Tony’s hand. “There’s a difference.”

“Miniscule difference. A fine line.”

Cap pulled his hand away at the sight of multiple waiters and waitresses arriving with food and. They’d have to work on public displays of affection.

Another few tables had to be pulled up as the breakfast onslaught was delivered, and in the background noise of Steve thanking everyone, Tony noticed a familiar duo sitting on the opposite side of the restaurant. Red hair. A yellow shirt.

“Don’t panic, but I think there’s a hostage situation,” Tony leaned in and whispered once they were alone again. He jerked his head toward the pair.

“You mean Bruce and Natasha?” Steve glanced over. “They’ve been there for a bit. Were there when we were seated.”

“Why? They’re spying on us?” Tony peered over Steve’s shoulder. Though if that was the case then they were doing a horrible job, not even looking over in their general direction. Natasha has their back to them, elbow on the table in a relaxed posture. Bruce was smiling, shaking a little, Tony would go so far as to say he was laughing if that wasn’t just weird.

“I don’t think so.” Steve spared them a glance but he didn’t not for too long. “Maybe they’re just enjoying each other’s company.”

“That’s weird.”

Like Romanoff, looking relaxed, but that’s not possible. Her head would combust first.

“Why?” Steve asked. “They look happy together.”

“I don’t trust it.”

“Maybe you should eat before your food gets cold.” Steve placed a fork in Tony’s hand.

“My food? What? No, this is the only fuel I need.” Tony held up his coffee cup. “See, the whole time I’ve been the android--”

Cap then proceeded to steal the fork he just gifted Tony, and shoved a forkful of food into Tony’s mouth. Tony made a point to grumble, and Steve smiled at him long enough for him to have to comply. Hypnotism strikes again. 

While digesting human food, Steve spoke up. “Can I um, ask you something?”

“Something else you mean,” Tony said between bites.

“Well.” Steve set his fork down. Tony eyed the instigating fork. “I’m not sure how this works in this daynage, but back in my day--”

“You had to walk fifteen miles to the store in the dead of winter without shoes. Sorry. Reflex, move your fork.”

“What I meant was…” Steve picked it back up. “When a guy likes a pretty dame- er, fella in this case, they go on a few dates before they decide to go steady.”

“That’s drawn out.” Tony tore into a powdered waffle. “And I’d make a gorgeous woman.”

Steve snorted. “But we kinda went backwards. Or forward now since we’re on step one. But since I’m not sure how people today do it… Are we going steady? And--” Steve quickly added. “If not, can we…? Y’know, go--”

“Steady. We’ve waited long enough, that’s for sure. Cap, this is incredibly old-fashioned.” The joke stumbled on its way out.

“Hey, I could have brought flowers.”

“Oh. You did that.” But Tony was stalling for things to say and Cap was hanging on his every word. How corny this all was, getting asked out but Captain America, who was just Steve Rogers. His Steve Rogers. “But, sure. Yeah. Let’s do it. I’m all for it.” A laugh escaped him.

“Great! I mean.” Steve cleared his throat. “Good.” 

“Can I get you two anything else?” Barbie asked, eyes still wide on Tony and not Captain Muscles.

“Some flowers.” Tony said, lowering his shades and smirking at her. “If you don’t mind.”

 

* * *

  
“It’s like a double life.” Hawkeye’s voice echoed from above. Currently he hung from the ceiling pipes, legs hooked around the broad ventilation system. “By day, nurse. By night, astrologist.”

“Astrophysist. Eh, close enough.” Tony lifted another one of his - soon to be Clint’s - arrows and squinted. No imperfections, as usual. “Someone said she’d be early today. Forget who.”

“ ‘Tasha did. Think they said they were heading to the mall. That’s one trip I’m avoiding,” Clint grumbled. “Hate being the honorary bag carrier.”

“Same. The mall gives me hives.” Tony waved the arrow in the air and whistled. “Hey, check out this bad boy.”

“Are you calling me like a dog?”

“A bird, if you will.” 

 “Dick.” Barton dropped from his post, flipping himself on the way down and sticking the landing. He took the arrow and rubbed the shaft between his fingers. “So this one sends out supersonic waves?”

“Disorienting opponents and rendering technology obsolete. So don’t get any ideas, Barton.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Clint said with an unnerving smirk. “Unless you go rogue.”

“You couldn’t handle me rogue.” The rest of the arrows were in order, with some additions of course. Net expulsion, heat seeking, and a little dabbling with toxins.

“I’ll hold you to that Stark.” Clint hoisted up the set and hugged it to his chest, the sarcasm dulled by his eager tone. A kid on Christmas day.

“No can do buddy. I’m a chaste man.” Tony waved an arrow in his face. “Have to remove playboy from my resume.”

Barton snatched the arrow and added it to his lovely collection. “Where is Cap anyway?”

“Out of the country, had business in Europe.”

“More HYDRA?”

“Nope, definitely not. Like I’d let him have the jet.” Tony made Steve promise that it wasn’t criminal related. And even after they exchanged scout’s honor and Tony watched him leave, he still had the urge to track him. He could so do it if he wanted to, but there was that thing called privacy. Still, Tony did consider implanting a microchip under the Super Soldier’s skin but that may or may not be excessive.  

“Made him swear to it,” Tony added with a cough. “He’s off seeing some friend.”

Clint’s eyes widened. “You mean--”

“I know what you’re going to say. Yes, a living friend.” Not that Tony nearly blurted out that same response to Steve, but he remembered that thing called manners. “So you wanted a combustible arrow?”

“Not combustible. Just one that catches on fire.”

Tony waited for a crack in Clint’s demeanor. He remained completely straight-faced. “O…kay.”

“Present for Phil when he’s back in the office. Imma serenade him, Medieval style.”

“I think you’re a glutton for electric bolts.”

“And you just drank motor oil.”

Tony glanced down and found not a coffee cup in his hand, but a can of the oil. “That I did.”

The important thing was that his mojo was back, and he was back to upgrading weaponry and armor on not just the entire team, but himself. Really, a little personal time was in order with his bots and his suits. It was odd, thinking that these past few months could actually be categorized by something that he didn’t think pertained to him: selflessness.

Not just selflessness for Cap, but the entire team. Maybe there was a flowchart he could find the trend the exact source from.  

Then again, his personal time may have to wait a little longer. Tony was on a selfless high and he intended to milk it for all that it’s worth.

Even if that meant a possible suicide mission. 

“What’s the time?”

“Three forty-five, Sir,” JARVIS said.

Tony twitched. “Armageddon. Clint, you might want to hang low. Or high in your case. Be ready to fire on my command.”

“What’s my target?” Clint swiped his bow from the table.

“Miss Potts has arrived.  Your time for strategizing has been cut short,” JARVIS announced.

Tony cut off them music.

“Whoa. Bro. _Bro_.” Barton slammed his bow back down. “No. I’m not shooting your CEO.”

“It was a joke. Mostly. Seek shelter elsewhere then.”

“What?” Clint gathered his arrows. “I’m not the one she’s after.”

“What I meant is get out.”

“Fine.” Clint rolled his eyes and kicked the floor vent out of its place before scurrying through, weapons and all.

There was something seriously wrong with these S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. Maybe Tony should enlist since he willingly invited Pepper over.

Tony focused on his dismantled suit as the clacking of heels against hard floors grew in frequency down the stairs. The door opened, should he be more casual? Maybe have a beer, but he hates beer, that’s a shitty idea. Maybe whiskey, swirl it around in a glass, all classy like--

“Did I come at a bad time?” Pepper’s voice echoed, or maybe Tony imagined it. Anger a minimum, potentially nonexistent.

“No.” Tony turned. She looked as polished as ever. Was her hair color lighter? “You’re a minute late, actually. Or not, the walk inside might of eaten that minute, if you were going for your regular time. Late for being early--”

“Or late for my usual record.”

“Don’t beat yourself up. We all can’t be perfect.” Tony winced. “That wasn’t intentional.”

“I figured,” Pepper said, tightening her grip on her shoulder bag.

Tony wanted to beat the silence back with a stick.

“Is everything okay?” Pepper blurted. She took a few steps forward but stopped, eyes slightly wider. More carefully, she added, “New York was under attack, are you hurt?”

“Pain is subjective-- Scratch that.” Pepper’s expression fell too fast. “I’m fine, yes. No problems. The team is just swell.” Tony really couldn’t look her in the eye and somehow he ended up on the opposite side of the room, through pacing, or teleportation, who knew. “Could you come over here maybe? Completely up to you. Don’t want to yell.”

Pepper nodded and maneuvered those heels over all the scraps accumulated over the weeks. Maybe he needed to clean up, the only thing he’d willingly clean.

“JARVIS said you were Malibu,” she said.

“And you weren’t. Which wasn’t planned.” Tony threw his arms up in defense. He made a mental note to stop his pacing or else they’d be following each other for a while. “We didn’t plan an attack of course, that’s illegal. JARVIS said you were out.”

Pepper nodded, nearly losing her balance as DUMM-E rolled by. “Regarding PR. I sent you emails.”

“Yep.” Now reading them was another thing entirely.

“Tony this place is filthy- Are those burger wrappers?”

“Yes, some spring cleaning is in order. Later though, now is important grown up matters. Real world.”

“Oh God, what did you break?” It so happened that Pepper reached him on that question. Time for the defensive.

“Nothing! Not recently… Or, no that’s a lie. I’m lying.” Tony scrubbed his face. “I did break something. But that’s why you’re here because I’m going to fix it, right now.”

Pepper wrinkled her forehead, and Tony continued. “Short. Clear. Concise, got it. I didn’t mean… Or I did mean at the time but now’s different, what you said before, don’t remember the specific wording but--”

“Tony what are you saying?”

“It’s a process Pepper, I’m processing.” Tony threw a wrench that smacked DUMM-E and freaked he program out of him. “I didn’t have it back then and still don’t but you did.”

“What?”

“I owe you an apology.” He turned again, facing her. “That thing about people, that enlightened speech you gave a while back and last night, it hit me. Solid concrete, crystal clear, our compatibility, nonexistent. Borderline incestual. And mentally I was cheating, I was bad. But you’re not, you’re great Pepper, really--”

“Tony, stop.”

Tony snapped his mouth shut.

“Are you saying I was right?” Pepper’s brow rose.

“In too many words.”

Did Tony imagine her smiling? It must have faded into a smirk. Pepper, smirking? “So when did Steve ask you out?”

“Assumptions are bad Pep, even when accurate-- Why did you assume that he would ask?”

“Just because we aren’t compatible doesn’t mean I don’t know you. And I still have my sources.”

“In other words, Agent.” A brainwashed Agent still carrying gossip with Pepper. HYDRA really had too much information on him. “Or freakish, womanly intuition. I don’t believe you knew this. How could you know this, you’re not super human.”

“One at a time, I asked my question first.”

“Yes but mine require more explaining.”

“And you can get to that once you finish your end of the bargain.”

“It’s non-negotiable.”

“During breakfast yesterday.” Tony whirled around and saw Bruce at the entrance, pretending not to look their way. “That’s the official claim at least.”

Tony jabbed his finger in his ex-Science Bro’s direction. “Bruce, you traitor. No indestructible pants for you.”

“Haha, can’t miss what I never had.”

“Thank you Bruce.” Pepper rounded onto Tony and smiled. Evil, all of them. Tony crossed his arms and glared at the floor. The whole dating Captain America thing was still fresh in his stomach.

“Miss Potts if you don’t mind, Natasha said she’d like to talk with you? Catch up on things,” Bruce shyly but successfully interrupted the conversation.

“Of course, thank you.” Then back to Tony, she leaned forward and pecked his cheek. It had a different air to it, affectionate but not like before. More like siblings, or family. Pepper withdrew and straightened Tony’s shirt, fixing the buttons and patting off the soot. “We’ll catch up later. And Tony, good for you.”

She was nearly out the door when Tony said, “When did your shoes grow? You’re a skyscraper.”

“These shoes? They’re new. Bought a few pairs after we broke up. Thank you for them, by the way.”

“The smirk is new too!” Tony called after her, “And I’m not sure I approve!”

 

* * *

 

 

It was much later that night when JARVIS announced Steve’s arrival. Tony perked up from his work, the dozens of scribbled schematics scattered along his desk. Some written on the desk.  The idea stemmed from Thor and his hammer summoning abilities; what if Tony could replicate that summon with a suit? Not the entire thing though, imagine that barreling for him. Separate parts. He just got to adjusting his faceplate when the announcement rang through his lab.

He lifted up the faceplate, then quickly lowered it, not that he was waiting around, and he shouldn’t give the impression of waiting.

“Tony, hey.” Steve was beaming, it was a good thing Tony kept the faceplate on because a full shot of those eyes was lethal.

“How was England or Great Britain?” Tony’s fingers fidgeted with the edges of one of the many papers. “You didn’t bring tea back did you because it’s evil, Bruce might want it though.”

“Why is tea evil?” Cap peered over Tony’s shoulder, the closeness bringing up goosebumps on his arms. Tony had the urge to lick his cheek.

“It’s jealous of coffee, a poor imitation.”

“Is that so?” Steve hugged him from behind and Tony ripped a schematic in two.

Steve jumped back but Tony quickly followed him, bumping into him with his rolling chair.

“My bad. I meant to do that.” Tony lifted the mask. “Someone’s frisky.”

“I just missed you is all.” The honesty was ridiculous. “Am I being too forward?”

“Is there such a thing?” Tony stood up and kissed him, then licked Steve’s lips for good measure. And to get that out of his system. “I taste honey.”

“Oh, I had dinner over there. Speaking of which.” Cap kissed Tony right back. “Did you eat today?”

“Define eating.”

“We could order pizza or something.”

“Yeah the motor oil wasn’t exactly filling.”

Steve’s brow rose. “You drank motor oil?!”

“Kidding. Really. JARVIS, order pizza.”

“Shall I make accommodations for those who are just returning? Miss Romanoff, Miss Foster, Miss Potts, and Doctor Banner have all arrived.”

“Why not. Let Pepper fight with greasy goodness.”

“Where did they go?” Cap fidgeted with Tony’s rolled up sleeves.  Whether he was conscious of it or not Tony didn’t know, but it was nice.

“Shopping,” Tony said with a laugh. “Bruce was forced to but that’s fine because he’s a traitor.”

“Alright…” Steve knew better than to ask. “And Pepper, are you two okay?”

“If not that’d be awkward, or maybe it still is. Yes? I think so.”

“That’s good.” Steve said with a snicker, somehow able to decipher Tony’s mess of an answer.

It was close to the top of the staircase that Steve decided to whisper in Tony’s ear. “I have a surprise for you, for later.”

Tony’s grin broadened at Bruce, burying the curiosity instantaneously sparked and ravaged his brain. Fortunately the scene was humorous; Bruce had too many bags than he knew what to do with, hooked around his arms, wrists, shoulders, and one even balanced on his head. Barton was right to run.

“How painful was it?” Tony reveled in his pain.

Bruce huffed. “I thought I’d be helping them with their things. Instead, it ends up being an escapade of buying things for the guy who travels light.”

“Don’t be so modest, Doctor,” Natasha strolled by, carrying a few bags of her own. “You have a tower to store them now, may as well dress nice.”

“I suppose.”

“Enough embarrassment.” Tony was about to pat Bruce on the shoulder but that may have tipped him off balance. “Motor oil isn’t a meal. Who wants pizza.”

There was agreement all around, even from Pepper who had a slight wince.

“Can there be light sauce on one?” Jane asked.

“I agree. Less mess,” Pepper chimed in.

“Mess?” Cue Clint’s entrance with Agent alongside him, a duffle bag in hand. “I didn’t do it.”

“Whoa, whoa. Bag?” Tony made it to them in record time. “Whose bag?”

“Phil’s bag,” Barton dangled it in Tony’s face.

Tony’s nose scrunched up. “Agent has things? Where are you putting those things?”

“Good evening, Stark,” Agent said, as enthusiastic as white bread.  “Director Fury--”

“And me,” Clint chirped.

“ _And_ Agent Barton have highly recommended that I recover in an area separate from the one that caused my ailment. I’ll be commuting between S.H.I.E.L.D. and the tower so I won’t be around all the time, to your disappointment.”

“More spies in my tower? Yeah don’t ask my permission or anything, I only own the place.”

“I’ll show you to a guestroom, or my room,” Clint wiggled his eyebrows.

“It’s good to have you here, Phil.” Steve smiled. “We were just ordering pizza, would you guys like some?”

“That would be great, Captain Rogers.”

“Hi, hello? No one here is deaf right? Still talking.”

“Tony, hush,” Pepper then smiled at Phil. “How have you been doing?”

“Better, I suppose…” Those two and Clint left the room. Jane and Natasha followed the herd, probably to set their things down.

“Looks like a full house tonight,” Steve said, looking amused by it all.

“Against my will. JARVIS, you know the specials, just order 10 pizzas. You eating too, Cap?”

“What? Oh no, I already ate.”

“Kay, 10 pizzas--” Tony staggered when the entire tower shook and Steve quickly steadied him. Lightning whited out Manhattan in a flash, and the lights flickered in even less time than that.

“A lightning strike?” Steve and Tony wondered aloud, before they locked onto each other’s gaze. If their brains were in sync then Steve also knew--

“Should I increase the number of pizzas, Sir?” JARVIS innocently asked.

Calm weather returned to Manhattan as none other than the Thunder God strutted into the living room as if he owned the place, grinning ear to ear as his hammer swung at his side.

“My friends!” Thor exclaimed,  “My time in Asgard was shorter than I anticipated-- Friend Steven, you are awake!” He gathered Cap into the most epic bro hug of all time, crushing the wind out of him. “And Friend Bruce.” Thor set Steve down. “You look splendid in those garments.” “Thank you, Thor,” Bruce murmured, fidgeting with the sleeve of his pinstripe shirt.

“You are quite welcome. Now, friend Steven,” Thor turned back to Cap. “How did you overcome your uncommon ailment?”

“Later!” Tony quickly blurted, catching the flush of Cap’s face and awkward shift from Bruce. “Over pizza. JARVIS, bump it to 15.”

“Indeed, I do enjoy the merriment of food and friends! Now tell me, where may I find--”

“ ‘Jane Foster’? Try bedroom.”

“Many thanks.” Thor marched off and shortly after they heard a loud squeal from upstairs, followed by Thor’s laughter. Tony nearly gave the command to call, when he heard another stomach growl. Tony turned to the Super Soldier.

“I guess I didn’t eat as much as I thought…” Steve said with an awkward laugh.

“20 pizzas.”

 

* * *

 

 

The night felt… off. The pizzas all arrived by different drivers, because no one had the arms to carry all that food. Thor “graciously” accepted them and the sight of a freakin’ god from another dimension was enough to send the delivery boys into fangasming heaps.

Besides that, there the Avengers  were taking up the couches and chairs in the living room, all surrounding the wall that JARVIS projected a movie onto. Sodas littered the coffee table and floor, just anywhere that was flat ground. But no one really watched the movie, too much chatter and shenanigans between groups.

Clint and Thor used the pizza boxes as Frisbees and Pepper tried yelling at them to stop but she gave up quick enough, surprisingly. Must have been preoccupied with speaking to Agent and Natasha. Jane and Bruce exchanged words of genius with each other while Phil and Natasha exchanged scandalous information with Pepper, not really, when Clint hit them with a box on purpose. Yeah, the guy with amazing tried to claim that it was an accident. The agents tackled him, shoved him into the couch, and then sat on him before continuing their conversation. Thor challenged Steve to a soda drinking contest - so many months on Earth and only _now_ did Thor learn about soda.  Thor won by a slim margin, but the two were stuck belching suds the entire time.

Though Steve might’ve won if Tony didn’t fondle him. Soda spurted from his nose like a geyser, it was so worth it. 

The night ended in blasting classic rock. Tony and Clint were all over that, and Thor cheered them on, soda in hand and arm around Jane. Tony caught a glimpse of Bruce placing his hand on Natasha’s. And she didn’t kill him on the spot. Steve turned pink from laughing so much; maybe Tony tying a tie around his head and shaking his hips wasn’t the most provocative. Even Agent’s his tie a fraction of an inch while Pepper lost her heels somewhere. Scandalous times.

So yes, the night was weird. ‘Specially since it was completely void of alcohol. A bunch of agents, militia men, diplomats, scientists, all acting like they were back in high school.

But maybe weird wasn’t a bad thing.

The night finally died down when it was technically day, or after midnight. Bedtime for the general public, but for Tony it was time to work… And also see what that surprise was. Tony eyed Cap as he helped tidy back up the living room, shoveling the remnants of their feast in garbage bag. Did he forget? Was he pretending to forget?

“What are you doing?” Tony appeared next to him.

“Picking the place up a bit.”

“Not that, where’s my gift? Is it leather?”

Steve’s brow furrowed. “What? No, I’ll be in the lab in a second.”

“I’ll be waiting.” And he really was when he didn’t even intend to. But he couldn’t focus, his schematics untouched. What felt like hours later of just burning holes into the metal passed before Tony heard the footsteps.

“Tony, are you busy?”

“Gift.” Tony took off his gloves.

“Guess not.” Cap’s smile faded and his stare focused onto the floor. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other.

“Nervous?” Tony peered around his back. Was the gift there?

Cap leaned back a little just out of reflex; he wasn’t hiding anything. He released a small laugh. “Kind of. I’ve never done this before. Properly, at least. JARVIS, could you…”

“Of course.”

The lights suddenly dimmed.

Tony glanced around, suddenly feeling anxious. Not that he was expecting a bomb to go off, but honestly surprises weren’t exactly his forte. Not knowing something overall bothered him more than he’d like to admit. But this was Steve, and he could trust him, whatever was about to happen. “What, JARVIS were you in on this?”

“Partially Sir.”

Then music began to play, stuff that Tony didn’t recognize. Old, like record player old and it had that record quality to it.

Steve made it over to him and extended a hand. “Would you like to dance?”

“Is this from a sound track?” Tony was dumbfounded. He took Steve’s hand. Where was the beat?

“It’s the kind of music that I used to listen to. Still do sometimes.” Cap placed a hand on Tony’s waist and held his other hand. “I only know the guy’s part. Hope you don’t mind.”

Steve began to lead into a dance that Tony could only categorize as old-fashioned. Tony was able to register the beat finally, though charting their footfalls.

“I’m the female? I resent this,” Tony mumbled. 

But not really, he was being led along to the song, slowly turning around and around with every step. Dizzying. Tony couldn’t keep track, stepping back then forward, gliding sideways to an upbeat background with a sultry woman’s voice singing of love.  It had a calming effect, just being led along. Cap was a little clumsy, looking away and focused, as if prepping for battle. Even though his ears were glowing.

 Tony couldn’t recall Steve talking much about his life back in the 40s; he didn’t elaborate much on it. But now he was telling him, no, showing him a glimmer of it. Letting him into the world, this WWII era.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Cap’s tone was quiet, gaze flickering over to him.

“Yeah.” When did they get so quiet? “Cept for one thing.”

Steve perked up. “What is it?”

“Were you so buttoned up back then?” Tony rubbed the collar of Cap’s shirt between his fingers.

“Not so much, why?” Steve’s brow furrowed. “Am I tense?”

“C’mon, you need to loosen up.” Tony clipped one of Steve’s steps, dipping him back in his moment of shock while Tony remained completely suave and flawless

Now if only Tony didn’t underestimate Cap’s weight.

Steve was caught off guard that’s for sure as they crashed to the floor.

Tony groaned, partially on top of him. Physical pain, slight. Embarrassment, no comment. “Had that planned better in my head.”

Odd enough Steve started laughing, body shaking softly against Tony’s form. “But that’s the fun part,” he said, hair out of its usual parting. “It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

Tony stared at him, scrutinizing, unsure as to what he meant. He made it sound so simple, was there an underlying connotation?  He couldn’t find one, and if one existed Tony gave up on finding it.  He lowered himself and kissed Steve instead, and felt Steve’s arms wrap around his waist. 

Maybe Tony did get Steve’s  point. Maybe they didn’t have to be perfect. They were perfectly fine the way they were, they and their one big dysfunctional Super Family. Maybe neither of them was broken after all.

Cracked maybe, but not broken. Fragmented, but together they were whole.

Tony withdrew just an inch to breathe, “JARVIS, barricade the lab would you?”

And that was enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> This idea has been sitting with me since I first saw the Avengers in May, but I didn't get the nerve to write it until November. Now here it is. Hope you enjoyed what you've read so far, and that you'll stick around to the very end. Thanks for reading!


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